


cake and cardigans

by heytherejones



Category: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones - Fandom, Riverdale (TV 2017), bughead - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-11-09 20:51:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 56,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heytherejones/pseuds/heytherejones
Summary: literally a collection of smut with hardly any plot.





	1. mornings

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if you guys have any prompts you'd like me to fulfill!

The morning was the epitome of soft and slow. Sunshine cast through her curtains, tinting the room with a blush pink hue. The window was cracked slightly, letting the thick heat of the room escape and cooling their flushed skin. She lay curled beneath his weight in his ratty t-shirt, hole at the hem with socks bunched at her ankles and nothing else. He lay above her, nothing but boxers hugging his waist. 

His eyes were closed, soft snores and quiet exhales filling her ears. His skin is warm, hot almost, pressed against her bare and pale icy skin. He's beautiful, always, but especially like this. When he's sleeping, eyes closed and lashes long, lips in a small pout, she notices how gorgeous he looks, tranquil. 

Her fingers twist delicately in the curl falling down his forehead, pulling back and letting it spring into place. He stirs, but doesn't wake, arms tightening around her waist, pressing his cheek into the exposed skin of her stomach. 

She'd love to let him sleep, to keep watching him for hours, but she's been up since dawn, a certain ache between her legs keeping her desperate and wanting. She pulls tightly on his bare arm, deciding she was going to be selfish enough to wake him. 

His head lifts, blue eyes peering up to her sleepily. More turned on than she feels bad for waking him, she tugs his arm again, insisting he move further up the bed and closer to her. He scoots up, pressing his cheek to her chest now as she curls her fingers through his hair.

He looks up into her green eyes. He leans up, her eyes fluttering closed as he kisses her softly, sleepily. 

Granted, she should be tired too. He'd kept her up all night, rocking in and out of her till almost 3am, till her legs were sore, and they still are. 

When he pulls back she leans in again, without a word he pulls back away shifting himself lower again, back to his previous position. He's closer now to where she wants him, lips lazily trailing across her soft skin. She sighs, watching as he presses his lips on the inside of her thigh already littered purple and blue. 

Slowly, her legs are pushed apart, his tongue running between her legs, tip of his nose pressed to her clit. He's only half awake, the slow movements of his tongue driving her up the wall. His tongue curls inside of her and she tastes so sweet, like strawberries and cream. He'll never get enough. Her hand presses firmly to the mattress, the other tangled in his messy raven hair. 

A soft cry of his name leaves her lips, panting as his lips wrap around her clit, kissing ever so slightly. Her hips push upward against him, his arms wrapped around her thighs, fingers pressing into her bruised skin as he continues, still slow, still sleepy. 

She's an eager mess, cries and whines filling his ears as his tongue curled inside of her again. His eyes blink slowly, drowsily as he looks up at her through his lashes, tongue still coaxing between her thighs. God, he was so god damn beautiful. 

She comes, all over his tongue and without a doubt his tongue keeps moving, salvaging every last drop of desperation between her legs. Sensitive, she fists his hair and pushes him back slightly, soft pants leaving her lips, breathing jagged. 

He looks up at her, satisfied and licking his lips, eyes still hooded in his tired state. He grins at her, resting his head on her stomach. Watching the way her eyes flutter and her chest rises and falls, he loses the control within himself, ducking his head between her legs again. She gasps sharply, her thighs quivering as his tongue begins to move. 

"Juggie, I can't-" She whimpers softly, his lips holding back a sly grin. 

"Yes, you can." He quips back, terribly smug as he looks to her, lazily moving his tongue. She's too sensitive, it's all too much with the way he's looking at her. She pushes back on his shoulder, trying to shimmy her way up the bed, back slamming against the headboard, but still he desperately clings onto her, arms wrapped around her thighs. 

"Juggie, please." His nose brushes against her clit, his lips opening in slow pants. 

"Not until you come again." He holds her close, keeping her hips grounded as they try to lift against his face. Sweat gathers on her forehead, her fingers fisting the pillow, desperate to keep quiet. She curses, making him groan between her legs.

Lips open in a silent scream, she comes again, more intensely this time, eyes locked with his. She pushes his head back quickly, panting and breathless. He rolls back on the bed, once again satisfied. Crawling back up to her, lips covered in her desire he kisses her, moaning into her mouth. The sound brings the ache back between her legs even just moments after coming underneath his tongue. 

Softly, he nips the skin of her jaw. Her hands press to his shoulders, pushing him over and sliding her legs over him. Her hair falls effortlessly around her face, green eyes sparkling with mischief as she rolls her hips forward.

"You're so sexy." A groan vibrates through his throat, his hands running along her hips under his t-shirt she looks so good in. She blushes, fingers brushing the underside of her nose, a nervous habit. Quickly breaking her anxious demeanor, she snaps the band of his boxers, tugging desperately.

"I want you, Jug." She bites her lip playfully, hips shifting comfortably on top of his. 

"Yeah?" His thumbs press into her hips, roughly rubbing over the skin. 

"How do you want me?" He presses harder, lips dragging slowly over her throat. 

"Hard, Juggie." His face nuzzling into her neck, she looks down, pulling his boxers back slightly and reaching past the material, hand wrapped around him. 

"Yeah?" He chokes out as she squeezes softly, hand moving up and down lazily. 

"And fast too." She nods, inching further up his lap. 

"Well I gotta give you what you want, don't I?" He shudders, skin covered in goosebumps. Growing wetter at the sound of his tired, morning voice she drops herself on top of him, eyes between her legs as she slips him inside of her. 

"Mhm hmm-" She sucks in a breath, shrieking followed by laughter as he flips her over, pressing her into the bed with a small smile on his lips. Her legs lift to wrap around his waist, the laughter dying on her lips as his hips push forward. She cries out as he shows no mercy, fucking her hard till she sees black, till her mouth can only open in soundless screams. 

He's definitely awake now, groaning as she lifts her hips upward, before he pushes them back down, grounding her hips. 

"ohmygod-" Her words mesh together, his thumb pressed to her clit, her stomach tightening. His sweaty forehead pressed into the crook of her neck, gasping against her skin as her hips still managed to shift upward under his hold. 

Her arms wrap around his neck, tight. He continues to rock his hips forward, so hard that he'd pushed her further up the bed, her head knocking into the headboard.

"Jug-" She chokes out, laughter in her voice replaced with a breathy moan.

"Shit, sorry." He grins, his hand now placed between her head and the headboard, his knuckles crushing against the hard wood, each thrust of his hips pushing her head back.

His other hands dips under his t-shirt, fingertips running along her spine and arched back before resting on her hip, pulling her forward and harder against him.

"I'm gonna come, Juggie." Her lip is between her teeth, green eyes peering into his, icy and blue. She cries against the skin of his bruised up throat, nails pressing into his also bruised shoulders. Her teeth scraped against his throat, leaving another one of her many purple teeth shaped marks.

His thumb slides over her clit again, rubbing harshly in circles and she comes for the third time tonight. He lets go seconds after she does, pulsing inside of her, filling her up like she always asks him to. She almost screams, his other handing having to slide over her mouth, not wanting to wake her family this summer morning. 

He kisses her languidly, tiredly, to silence her as he pulls out of her, her face scrunching together. She winces at the empty feeling. Traces of the both of them are practically spilling out between her legs, ruining her perfectly pink sheets, but it wouldn't be the first time she'd have to wash them after a morning like this and she wasn't complaining. 

"I love when you fuck me hard like that. Do it again Juggie." Her voice is below a whisper against his skin, soft and sultry. He groans, tired, but he had a little bit of stamina left and he was planning on using it right here, right now and on her. Once was never enough, god, they could just fuck each other for hours and never be tired of each other. 

"What are you doing to me?" Another groan passes his lips.

Moaning, he pushes into her again, skin of her hips incredibly soft and she was deliciously wet between her legs. His hips drop once he's completely sheathed inside of her. Her hips push up faster than he can manage, almost passing out, gasping at the sounds that leave her mouth, the way she smiles after the filth leaves her lips. 

"Fuck, yes." She cries, green eyes wide. Sensitive, she's already coming again, moaning as he follows after her, pulsing inside of her and filling her up for the second time. He collapses on top of her, lips pressed to her forehead before whispering against her sweaty skin.

"You're going to fucking kill me."


	2. sin

She tastes like honey. He tastes like his occasional bad habit, a bitter cigarette. He told her he loved her, and she loves him too. She can hardly catch a breath before his hands are pressed firmly under her thighs, lifting her legs around him and turning quickly to slam her against the kitchen counter. The definition of slow is so out of their vocabulary. The knob of the cabinet pushes into her spine, but he's doing that thing with his tongue inside her mouth and so she doesn't care. His hands are pulling at her shirt, eyes quickly looking down and then back up, hands cupped to her face. At one point she's smiling so hard he almost starts laughing into her mouth and they both don't remember being this happy ever in their lives.

He lifts his arms and she doesn't waste a minute, pulling his sweater over his head. He crushes himself back into her, open mouthed and gasping before his lips are at her neck. 

Her lips taste so sweet, what does the rest of her taste like? 

Tongue swiping across her neck, teeth sinking into her collarbone he decides she tastes just as sweet, sweeter. She lets out a sigh, a quiet and sinful,

"Yes."

Her hips roll forward and his eyes flutter closed. She's trying to kill him, he swears on it. Her hearts climbing it's way up her throat, his hand inching up her skirt, thumb hitched in the side of her pale pink underwear and she almost loses it. He looks at her, ready to remove his hand but she's already nodding quickly.

His hand is between her legs again, fingers digging slightly into her through her underwear. Her heart skips a beat and her mouth runs dry, her fingernails digging into his wrist.

"Take them off." She manages to breathe out. Her hips lift off the counter and he rips them right off of her, pulling them down her long and pale legs as she kicks them to the kitchen floor, her hands at his belt, pulling, yanking and tugging until the buckles undone. Between her legs, now uncovered, his fingers dip into her and god is she wet, she's so wet. 

Her tongue finds her way inside his mouth again, teeth biting down on his lip, harshly.

"Baby-" He groans, forehead crushing against hers, hot breath against her lips. He can hardly breathe, quiet whimpers filling his ears and it's so sinfully beautiful. He wants to hear it more, all the time. On repeat. His thumb is where she wants it, where she needs it and suddenly her tiny hand is clawing around his wrist, she can't take it anymore.

"Jug-Juggie." Her eyes are shut tight, lips opened slightly as she's coming undone all over his hand and he can barely think straight because god she's so beautiful when she says his name like that and when her eyes flutter open he swears he sees fire. Her lips are on his in an instant, her hands at his jeans again, legs around his waist. It needed to be fast, just the buttons undone, zippers unzipped and clothes removed in all the right places. Desperate, he's pushing inside of her in the next few seconds, and it hurts rightfully so, but she isn't about to slow down. His fingernails claw down her thighs, eyes shut and hips stilled for Betty's sake.

"Be rough with me Juggie." She whimpers in his ear so quietly, moaning his name. Darkness is in her eyes. 

"Betts-" He protests, but her hands are pulling at his waist where his jeans hang lowly and just how could he not give her what she wants when she's panting and looking at him like that. Fuck it. 

He pushes his hips forward and she muffles a moan into his neck, laughing quietly against his skin after doing so. And then he rolls his hips again and again and again until her mouth falls slack against his jaw, whimpering like she doesn't know how to stop, the wood of the cabinet slamming back into place over and over behind her head.

His hips are pushing into her just as fast as he slammed her against the table and her hands are grasping the edge of the counter top. She's crying his name like a mantra and he's repeating over and over how much he loves her in her ear like it's all he can do. Her legs tighten around his waist and he moans directly in her ear and it shivers down her spine. He opens his hand once clenched around her hip, his nails dragging down to the top of her thigh, pulling her leg up further.

"Do it harder Jug." She's so much louder now, he's afraid the whole trailer park is up and filing complaints. His hips keep moving, her leg hitching higher up his side as she cries in his ear, harder harder harder. Her mouth parts like his, a sharp gasp passing her lips. She leans up to connect her mouth with his, each movement of his hips making her let an open mouth whimper against his lips. 

His fingers thread through her golden hair, tugging her head back roughly, biting into the pulse of her neck. She hisses as his teeth scrape into her skin, the pounding of his hips against hers jolting her body, his teeth scraping harder. 

"Yes, Juggie." She sighs deeply, both hands firmly on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. And then his thumb is where she needs it again and she sees stars. He sees them too. The both of them lose themselves inside each other, a tangled and sweaty mess. 

"ohmygod-juggie"

Her words mesh together as she moans against his neck, lips pressed to his throat. Her eyes close and almost roll to the back of her head, with him pulsing inside of her she wants to scream. A fist slams against the trailer door and they both jolt in their places, he thinks they're in trouble before he hears the call of his name from a mans voice, it's familiar, he's must of heard it before.

The front door being slammed on isn't enough to stop her, but it concerns him, his hand flying to her mouth. The effort to shut her the fuck up fails miserably, her pulling it away as fast as he put it there. Her mouth curves into a lazy half smile as she lift her hips, lips parting in a cry of his name.

Her teeth bite into her lips before they part again, her eyes filled with amusement as she lifts her hips yet again, whimpering loudly in his ear. His smile widens, his laugh is louder in her ear and he's never felt this carefree in his life. 

"God, I love you Elizabeth."

"I love you Forsythe." 

The hard push of his hips pushes her up the against the cabinet, her hand slamming to the table.

"Cmon baby." He murmurs against her flushed skin and she loses it, hips lifted slightly off the counter by his hands tugging at her waist, skirt hitched up slightly as he pounds another few thrusts into her. The feeling is all too intense, and when they're done his face is buried in her neck and the palm of her hand presses against his shoulder, pushing him off of her. 

"Jug?" The man calls and he redresses, leaving her cold as he pulls away from her. She hops of the counter, uneasy on her feet as crashes to the couch, pulling his jacket over her bare shoulders as he opens the door.


	3. baby

It'd happened one night, all it takes is one time. She new she had been pregnant. It was hard to miss. She's been upset about some stupid fight with Veronica, and she had come over crying, a mess. He held her as she cried, but then she looked up to him and pressed her lips to his and they both lost it. They got so lost in each other that they had forgotten. And then she was pregnant. It's been weeks and he still didn't know. 

She had planned to leave him, to make sure he could have everything he wanted without this burden on his shoulders, but she couldn't not say goodbye. So late at night she walks through his bedroom door.

She climbs on top of him, with out a word and carefully peels away his shirt, the cold night air seeps through the cracked window and shocks his sweaty skin. His breathing already quickens as she leans forward, her fingers tightly locked in his dark brown hair, tousling it slightly, although it had already been messy, his untamed hair. When she leans back slightly, it surprises him when she pulls her t-shirt over her head and replaces it with his. She looks beautiful in his clothes, he already knew that, but it seems even more entirely beautiful when her hair is falling in curls around her face and her cheeks are flushed and his t-shirt seems to be the only thing she's wearing besides her panties and her socks bunched at her ankles. 

She pulls at his boxers, her panties pulled to the side as she slips him inside of her, so incredibly easily.

And tonight is like no other except for the fact that it was more intense now, the moonlight casting through the window. He had made the habit of pulling the bed away from the wall, but it had been so unexpected. Which meant that when her hips rocked, harder and then faster and then leaning back with her hands supporting her on the mattress so he would go even deeper, the wood of the bed slammed against the wall in every movement. 

The small pout on her lips opened in a whimper, louder and then just a little bit louder. 

She leans over to his nightstand for a moment, all while still circling her hips and grabs something, his camera. 

"W-what are you doing?" He stammered, both hands gripping to her waist and she rocked herself on top of him, and it almost hurt, but not enough to stop him.

"I want to remember you when I can't have you anymore." He didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but he just watched her as she stilled her movements, one hand supporting her on the mattress like before. With him still deep inside of her, even with the feeling she could come just because of that, she held back, sliding her hips one way until he had that look on his face and she snapped a picture.

"Betts-" he spoke through his teeth, he was mad and it made her laugh in the slightest bit. He took it from her hands and she thought he'd throw it to the side, but he turned it around, letting it face her. When she was just about to cover the camera with her hands, his hips push upwards, slowly and then again, and again. Her hands fall to her sides, his t-shirt falling off her shoulder.

She cries out because she knows she's almost there and when her face twists, vulnerable and weak, he takes his turn, taking a picture of her. They find it rather enjoyable although erotic, going back and forth like this, another picture of her, another picture of him. 

And when the camera is in his hands and she's still on top of him, breathing heavily, still so surprised yet thankful they haven't stirred the sleeping house, he pushes a button, discovering something else entirely.

"This has a video function..." She knows this, and she knows where he's going with it and she doesn't even want to turn the idea down.

"Do you want to...um-"

"Y-yeah, yeah." She agrees, eagerly because even though he doesn't know, she knows this is her last night with him like this. She wants to remember him, she wants him to remember her. 

So she sets it on the nightstand once she hits record, in a position that watches them sideways and she's a little nervous that they're doing this, but she knows he's never wanted her to act a certain way, to do certain things, he's always wanted her to just be her.

With him filling her up, she rocks her hips, slowly, so slowly, each creak of the bed springs drawn out loudly. And with that camera watching them, her nerves on edge, she buries her face into his neck as she pulls him to sit up with her. With him sitting like this she has better leverage now, her hands hold steadily on his shoulders, picking up her hips, dropping them back down.

And with it being earlier, the moon is in a different position in the sky, it's light coming through that small crack of the window, shown on her now bare back as he lifts his shirt letting it fall between his fingers, and onto the floor.

She's remembers their first time, when they were just discovering each other. And now, even if just a couple weeks later, it's all so familiar. She compares it to now and she knows she's moaning so much louder and so much more and he's rougher with her, a lot rougher. 

When his hips push up that certain way and she had just dropped her hips down onto his she almost wants to cry, because it feels that good and that much more intense.

She knows she's close and she knows that he is too, so she tightens her hold on him, her hips moving a little bit harder when she leans forward, lips pressed to his ear as she whispers to him, so low not even the camera would pick it up,

"Please. P-please." 

He looks at her, then closing his eyes as he presses his lips to hers, teeth and tongues together with hers as he gives her what she wants. It didn't matter at this point, she was already pregnant anyway.

And when it's over, when it's all over and she's stopped crying out his name, when the both of them have stopped panting uncontrollably, when she's turned off the camera, she does something unexpected. She falls to his side, pulls his shirt back over her head and stays the night. But when he wakes she isn't there. And he knew it with in him that she had left him. She'd been acting so weird last night, he could tell. 

He can't bring himself to get out of bed, so he stays there for hours. And when weeks pass by and he hasn't seen her, he hears from Archie that Betty was leaving town. Moving. Away. From him. And he can't help but go see her.

\-----

"So, you're going through with this." He leans against her door way as she pulls a few books she's gathered along the way off of the shelf.

"God, you scared me." She jumps back slightly, running her fingers through her hair as she sets the books down in the box on her bed. 

"Sorry." He quickly apologizes, looking out into the hallway, expecting someone to interrupt them.

"No it's okay. Yeah, yeah I think it'll be good for me, you too..." She nods, pulling a few more things off of the shelf before sitting at the edge of the bed. He's not sure what she means by good for him.

"I'm just surprised. You didn't really tell me." He walks further into the room, taking a seat at her desk.

"I didn't think you'd really care, or notice. You're so busy, it won't matter." She smiles weakly before walking to her closet. She's being distant with him. But he's never not respected what she wanted, even when he couldn't understand it. So he pretends he hasn't seen every inch of her skin under that dress she looks so good in, like he doesn't know the way her face scrunches up, the way her lips part or the noises she makes when he rocks in and out of her over and over until she's crying his name in his ear. In this moment he doesn't know any of that, in this moment all he knows is whether he's happy or not, this is what she wants.

The day she leaves she plans on not saying goodbye, but he shows up. He always shows up. He doesn't say anything and neither does she. She just looks to him and smiles, nods slightly and reaches to grab her bag off of the floor. Before she can move an inch he pulls her in, fingers wrapped around her wrist. She pushes her hands flat against his chest, trying to make him let go, but he pulls her closer, holds her tighter. Her arms finally relax at her sides before wrapping around his neck, her hands fisting the back of his shirt, letting out a deep breath. And they just hold each other, but before she pulls away she presses her lips to the side of his neck, snuggling into him one last time. As she pulls back he kisses her forehead, watching as she picks up her bag, gets into her car and leaves with no plan of return.

~*~*~*~*~

It's only a few days before he connects the dots. Why she has been so different, distant. 

He knows now. And so he drives to her, hours away where she had been staying for her internship. The woman at the door of the apartment building knows immediately who he's asking for.

"She's upstairs. Third door on the left." She opens the door wider, letting him step inside. It's only a few moments before she opens the door after he's pounding on it nonstop. 

"Christ! Jug, what are you doing here?" She looks sickly, pale, her eyes red.

"Betts-" He calls, snapping her out of her daze and walks in past her 

"I have to tell you something-." She cuts him off.

"Okay?" This is it, he thought. She'd finally tell him and he'd hear it for himself.

"I wasn't gonna tell you...I didn't want to. I thought if I left I wouldn't have to tell you, but then I would have to stay away from you for 9 months and I couldn't-"

"Betts-" He begins, being immediately cut off. She's crying now, with both of her hands covering her face. 

"Juggie-" She calls after she pulls her hands away.

"I just want you to know how sorry I am, and that you don't have-you-you don't have to take any part of this...okay? Okay?" She's crying harder now.

"I was gonna get rid of it, but Juggie...its me and it's you. This baby is us and everything we mean to each other. But if you want me to get rid of it I can call the clinic, I can-" She mumbles out in a rush, her hands frantically pulling through her hair.

"Betty-" He whispers

"Juggie, I can call a clinic, we don't have to do this, I don't want to do this to you. You're so young and-"

"Betty-" He tries again louder, but her mouth doesn't stop moving.

"You have so much more to do and this wasn't apart of your plan and-"

"Elizabeth, shut up." A small smile curves upon his lips, and oddly he feels tranquil, more calm than he's ever been. He feels so fucking happy because this is something that he's wanted and maybe it's early and maybe everyone is going to judge, but he wants it so bad.

"This baby is you, and it's me. It's us and we are a family now. And Elizabeth?"

"Yeah-"

"I'm gonna be there every step of the way." He pulls her towards him, hand holding firmly on the dip of her neck, tilting her head to look up at him. 

The space between them has some how grown smaller, close enough that he can feel every time she exhales. And then it grows even smaller, his nose brushing against hers. As if they can't get any closer, his hand pushes into the small of her back, her back arching and her breathing starting to quicken. She pauses for a moment before letting out a deep breath.

"Okay." She breathes out, and he immediately leans in to kiss her, hands now on either side of her face. He doesn't want to stop, he doesn't want to breathe, he doesn't want to forget what she tastes like, but all too soon he pulls away

"I love you, so fucking much. And I love this baby. And I love you, I love you, I love you."

"We're doing this? We're having this baby?" 

"We're having this baby, Elizabeth."


	4. caught

It was the perfect Saturday. Ronnie had made the drinks, Archie picked the movie, and Betty had the snacks prepared. Jughead sat on the couch, arm around her, fingers threading through her hair. He's hardly been around them since he started at Southside and it had been hard, but Betty made sure she got her time in with him. Ronnie and Archie sat on the floor, backs pressed to the couch, giggling like idiots cuddled up next to each other. It's was an innocent hangout, Betty's cheek pressed to his chest, and his chin on top of her head, breathing in the honey and lilacs. 

"I miss you." Her head turned upward, eyes on his as she tucked her lip between her teeth.

"I'm right here." He laughs, squishing his nose against her cheek. 

"No, I miss you." Her finger slides across his stomach, almost going lower beneath the blanket.

"O-oh." He swallows hard, catching on. It was hard to get used to her being so open like that with him. She looks at him with darkness in her eyes as he runs a hand along her thigh, dress pushed up slightly.

"Be quiet." He says barely above a whisper, fingers pressing into her. He'd taken up this habit recently, of touching her whenever no matter where they were. Once in the backseat of the car as Ronnie and Archie sat in the front on the way home from Pop's, many times under the booth at Pop's, many times under the dinner table. 

"Un-Unfair." Her fingers wrap around his wrist.

"Your anatomy makes this easier." His lips turn up into a smile, eyes on the tv as his hand continues to move under the blanket. She eyes the side of his face, hardly trying to restrain the moan in the back of her throat. 

"And the fact that you've given up on wearing underwear." 

"Shut up." He smiles at her comment, watching as she rolls her hip toward his hand.

"What would they think?" 

"I don't care." She hisses, nails clawing at his wrist.

"No?" His fingers curl deeper inside of her, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. 

"I wanna taste you." He leans in, eyes on her again. She pulls his hand out from under the blanket, pressing his fingers to his lips to which he takes in his mouth, happily. 

"Properly." His lips are at the shell of her ear, leaving her dizzy.

"What are you two idiots mumbling about?" Ronnie looks over her shoulder, his hand under the blanket going unnoticed as she rolls her eyes and turns back to the tv.

He kisses the corner of her mouth as it turns up into a slight smile. She laughs a little to herself and then takes off for the stairs, her socks almost causing her to fall flat on her face. The strap of her dress is falling off her shoulder, her hair falling around her face as she climbs the stairs in a hurry with him right behind her, laughing lightly.

"You guys!" Archie yells, his voice drowned out behind them. 

"They're so having sex." Ronnie turns to him, eyes full of humor.

"Oh yeah, I know. When are they not?" He nods, turning his attention back to the movie.

As soon as the door pushed open she throws herself back onto his unmade bed, bouncing a little which makes him laugh again, her knees up and legs spread enough for him to fit between. 

But for a moment she sits up, pulling him closer, her thumbs tucked into his belt loops, unbuttoning his jeans and eagerly pulling down the zipper. She lays back again, her head hitting the mattress as he pushed his jeans down the rest of the way. One hand grabs tightly at his waist, pulling him down to the bed right between her legs. Only Archie's bedside lamp is on making the room dim. His lips are just above her belly button, fingertips kneading softly into her skin, pushing up her sweatshirt over her arms. Once his lips travel higher her breathing shallows. She was glad that her laziness stopped her from putting on a bra today.

His hand is between her legs again, fingers digging slightly into her through her underwear. Her heart skips a beat and her mouth runs dry, her fingernails digging into his wrist.

"Take them off." She manages to breathe out. Her hips lift off the mattress as he tugs them down her tan legs, and she kicks them to his bedroom floor. Her tongue finds her way inside his mouth again, teeth biting down on his lip, harshly. 

Her breathing grew shallow, hard to take a breath when his mouth was all over her. Oh god, his mouth. 

He progressively kissed lower, sure not to break his eyes away from hers. Lower and lower until he was kneeling in front of her on the floor, hands wrapped desperately around her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the bed in a quick movement. 

The heat between her legs only grew, his hands needily pushing her dress up to her hips again, eyes parting from hers for just a moment, glued to in between her thighs. Then his mouth is on her and she's losing it, making a mess of herself, whimpers flying past her lips. She can't wait another second, pulling his up by a fist full of his hair and then he's in a hurry too.

"C'mon." He whispers against her jaw as she pushes his underwear down with her feet, her legs then slowly wrapping around him, the heels of her feet resting at his hips. His hands hold tightly at her hips, he pushes his way inside of her slowly, comfortably sinking into her. His hips drop and her breathing becomes even faster. For a moment they just lay there until her hand presses to his chest and then he thrusts into her and she can't remember Archie or Ronnie downstairs, fuck she can't even remember her own name. 

He pushes his hips forward again and she's muffles a moan into his neck, laughing quietly against his skin after doing so. And then he rolls his hips again and again and again until her mouth falls slack against his jaw, whimpering like she doesn't know how to stop. The wood of the bed hits the wall and the mattress almost 11 years old creaks under the pressure. Her fingers thread through his thick hair, her grip tightening at another hard thrust of his hips. 

"Oh, God." She mutters under her breath, her hips lifting up, meeting with his. Her legs tighten around his waist and he moans directly in her ear and it shivers down her spine. He opens his hand once clenched around her hip, his nails dragging down to the top of her thigh, pulling her leg up further. Her eyes meet with his and she almost loses herself and comes right then and there, but she doesn't, instead she closes her eyes tightly like before. His thumb presses on her cheek, insisting she opens her eyes again. His lips are parted as his breathing shallows more like hers, his eyes almost lovingly looking into hers. Her mouth parts like his, a sharp gasp passing her lips. 

"Shit-" she hisses between her teeth and he pushes into her harder and just a little bit faster. 

Her hips push up, picking up the pace, his moans becoming louder in her ear. Their breathing becomes more heavy, a thin layer of sweat coats their skin. His teeth clench together and her head spins.

"Hurry-" She cries, her lips parting in a loud whimper against his cheek.

"ohfuck-" Her words mesh together as she moans against his neck, lips pressed to his throat. Her eyes close and almost roll to the back of her head, with him pulsing inside of her she wants to scream. The creak of the stairs stills him, but she's still pushing upward like she can't stop.

"Jug-Juggie."

"Ohmygod, shut up Elizabeth." He can't control the laugh that passes his lips, burying his face into her neck, incredibly concerned but not surprised at how loud she is. Her teeth bite into her lips before they part again, her eyes filled with amusement as she lifts her hips yet again, whimpering loudly in his ear. His finger passes her lips.

"Bite." Her eyes don't leave his, her teeth sinking into his skin and they both let go, hard. He restrains himself from almost screaming, face buried deep in the crook of her neck. She sees the sky full of stars she always does. Until Archie busts open the door.

"Oh, holyshit-I knew it!" Archie walks backward, crashing into the dresser.

"Arch!" They pull away from each other, Jughead pulling his boxers back up his legs.

"Oh god, oh god."

"Archie-" Betty calls again, eyes between him and Jughead.

"Gross, gross, gross." He covers his eyes, face scrunched in disgust as he tries again for the door.

"Archie-" Jughead tries this time, smile on his face as he watches him stumble around.

"Ronnie! Help!" 

"Archie! What's wrong?" Ronnie climbs the stairs in a hurry, her worried look turning to disgust as well as she walks through the door.

"Ew! Ew! Get out, let's go, get out!" She pushes him out the doorway, one hand over her eyes.


	5. ride

"Jug, I'm not getting on that." Her green eyes grew wide, the strap of her pale blue sundress sliding off her shoulder, golden hair softly blowing in the wind as the sun set. She was a vision.

"Live a little Elizabeth." He tightened his grip on the handles, his jacket resting perfectly on his shoulders. He smelled of honey and nicotine, his hair falling slightly over his eyes, crown long gone after she'd taught him how to break free and he was helping her do the same. 

"You don't even have a helmet!" She groaned, gesturing to his head and stomping her foot into the dirt, roughing up her perfectly white shoes. 

"We'll be fine Betts, c'mon. I wanna take you somewhere." He smiled, blue eyes full of adventure and lust for her.

"You can take me there. Safely. In a car." She was being stubborn, she always was. He loved her for it, just not when she was stubborn with him. 

"Elizabeth, get on the back of the god damn bike or I'm gonna bend you over it right now." His voice dropped, yanking on her wrist. She gently pulled back, standing her ground. 

"That doesn't make me want to get on. In fact I'll just stand here and-" 

"Elizabeth damn it." He groaned, rolling his eyes and her hands went up in surrender. 

"Fine." She climbed on, tightly holding her arms around him in fear as he started up the motor. 

"You'll be ok." He grinned, amused at her being frightful. She started off with her eyes closed, letting the wind blow through her hair, grasping onto him for the sake of not wanting to fall.

"You good?" He questioned, amusement still in his voice, Leaving Riverdale sign far behind, rolling hills and the smell of summer ahead. 

"Mhm." 

"Open your eyes Betts." The wind stops blowing past her, the motor dies down and he unwraps her arms from around him. 

"C'mere, look." He pulls her off, fingers laced with his as he pulls her to the field, flowers rolling over the hills for miles. She looks to him, wide eyed and smiling from ear to ear, dropping herself into the bed of grass and yellow flowers littering the field.

"Reminds me of you." He falls next to her, arm wrapped around her shoulder before he plucks a single flower from the dirt, pulling off the stem. 

"How so?"

"It's beautiful. Golden." He tucked the flower behind her ear, thumb running across her jawline and down her throat. She swallowed thickly, green eyes meeting with blue as his lips pressed to hers. His hands rested comfortably on her hips, thumb pressing right where her birthmark would be if she'd been wearing nothing, something he's seen so many times before and hopes for, for the rest of his life. 

"You're beautiful too."

"Betts." He groaned, lips turning upward as he let a light laugh pass through.

"I like this right here. And this one right here." Her thumb ran across his cheek, pressing into her favorite markings on his skin. A freckle, a birthmark. Anything uniquely him.

"And this one." She dipped her fingers under his sweater, pressing to the one just below the waist of his jeans.

"This ones my favorite." His fingertips run over the inside of her right thigh, pressing into the heart shaped bruise left by his lips. 

"Unfair, you put that there." Her hands curled around his neck, fingers laced into his hair as she let out a laugh. 

"And I'll continue to replace it until the day I die." The smile drops from her face as she leans up to press another kiss to his lips. He smiles against her mouth, pulling her thigh to rest between his, his hands either side of her face as she whispered that she loved him. 

The sun was still setting, the sky a beautiful pink hue. He placed more flowers in her hair, she kissed him till his lips were raw, he told her about his mother and his sister. She complained about her mother. He lets her wear his jacket as she dances in the rolling fields, her bare feet running through the grass. He ducked his head between her thighs as they lay in the bed of flowers. She cried out for him, loud, her voice rolling with the hills. He told her he loved her. She told him the same, over and over. The sun was nearly set by the time Alice had been calling her phone non stop. He lead her back to the bike, one more thing on his mind.

"One more thing..." His fingertips ran along her shoulders as she tucked her phone back into the pocket of his jacket, loose on her shoulders. 

"Bend over." His lips pressed to her forehead, speaking quietly against her soft skin.

"You're serious." She laughed out, knees weak at the suggestion.

"I am dead serious, bend your ass over c'mon." His hands forcefully turned her around, watching as she leaned forward over the seat of the motorcycle. 

"Alright! Alright." She surrendered, smile still on her lips. 

"Really? You're supposed to talk me out of this." He pushed her sun dress up slightly, thumbs pressing into the skin of her back.

"Juggie!" She moved to sit up again before he pushed her back down. 

"I'm kidding, shut up." Not a moment was wasted, he'd unbuckled his belt by the time she took her next breath, and by the next he was inside of her, her underwear pulled to the side.

"Jug-" Her nails clawed the leather seat, pushing herself back into him. 

"I'm never going to get enough of this." Her words clouded his head, leaving him dazed. He pushes forward harder and she cries out, his name leaving her lips.

Every last ounce of his innocence dies when she cries for him to go harder, and he does, and then she cries out even more. She's being unapologetically loud and he loves it. She's crumbling apart before he knows it, but she's unforgiving, hips moving like the devil as she tells him to go again.

"Again Juggie, again please-" She's desperate, once is never enough.

"Betts, Alice will-"

"Juggie-" Her pleading makes him weak. She winces as he moves his hips again, this time faster than before, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

"Elizabeth-" He leans forward, lips pressed to the back of her shoulder, hands still held in place on her hips, nails digging in deeper. 

"I need you, you feel so good Juggie, I-" Her moans fill his ears, leaving them ringing. 

"You have me. You have me." He repeats, feeling her tense in his arms as she lets go for what must of been the third time tonight. 

"Jug...Shit." Her hand reaches back, pulling on his waist as he lets go himself, his lip caught between his teeth, eyes shut tight. 

"Jeez, you're on a roll tonight." She turns to him, buckling his jeans back into place as he smooths her hair down, hands resting on either side of her face. 

"You're the one begging for it." He grins, pressing a small kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

"Shut up."

"Let's go home sunshine."


	6. quiet

He was pressed against the bed, crown of protection long gone, beautiful girl perched on his lap. He couldn't breathe, she was moving her hips in that sinful way she does and looking down at him, lashes curled and green eyes wide. 

"My parents are home." She murmurs against his skin, her finger dipping into his collarbone. 

"I know that."

"But I wanna-" She keens against him, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"I'll be quiet, but you...I don't know-" He grins.

"Juggie!" She moved to slap her hand to his chest, but his hand grabs her wrist all too soon.

His hands run along her hips, around her stomach, thumb pressing into the seam of her jeans. Her eyes shut tight as his fingertips run over the skin showing from her slightly lifted shirt. He sits up slowly, face nuzzled into her neck as he pops open the button of her jeans. 

"You'll be quiet?" He presses a thumb to her cheek, sliding down her jaw.

"Y-yeah." His eyes meet with hers, looking questioningly. 

"Yes Juggie." She swallows hard, his hand pushing past the waist band of her jeans, not yet into her underwear. He groans, cause she's practically soaked through the material of her white cotton underwear for him, because of him. The room to move his hand is pretty slim, his knuckle nudging right where it feels too sinfully good. Her lip tucks under her teeth as a moan vibrates through her throat. 

His lips are at the shell of her ear, breathing shallow at just the sound of her voice calling out for him.

"You said you'd be quiet."

"Believe it or not, I'm trying." 

He pushes her on her back, tugging her jeans down her legs in an instant. He's yanking down her underwear so fast that it's all a blur and all she's left in is socks and his t-shirt. His lips drag across her neck before he slowly makes his way between her legs, nipping the skin on her already bruised up left thigh.

"You gonna be quiet for this?" His eyes never leave hers, lips pressing under her belly button. 

"Absolutely not." She whines cause he's being unfair but she doesn't want to stop him. It makes all the difference when her parents are at conferences for The Register and he can fuck her anywhere in the house then when they're home and she doesn't know how to shut up. 

"Jug, I swear, don't-" She warns, fingers threaded through his raven hair, her foot trying to kick at his shoulder. But then his mouth quickly makes his way to where she wants it, needs it and shes showing him signs of want more than protest. She melts right away, her head dropping to the pillow.

"Juggie-" She's choking out silent whimpers now until his tongue moves a certain way and whimpers practically turn to a scream. 

"C'mon Betts." He pulls back, looking at her with his eyebrows raised. She lifts her head from the pillow, resting her weight on her elbows as she stares down at him through her lashes. 

"Jones I swear to God. What do you want me to do?" Her head drops back down because she can barely stand the sight of him. Hair is messed up all thanks to her, his gray sweater dropping down just enough to show his collarbones, his lips dark pink and swollen. 

"Betts I'm not gonna fuck you if you can't shut up." He looks at her sternly, blue eyes wide and full of humor. Either one of his hands are tangled around her thighs, nails pressing into skin.

"What! No, that's not fair!"

"You're no good at being quiet either!" She cries, pulling him upward by the collar of his sweater. He rests his forearms on either side of her head as she unbuckles his belt, pulling down the zipper and moving out of the way only what's necessary until he's where she wants him.

"I'm not as bad as you, sunshine." His eyes glisten again humorously, laughing as she pouts her lips. 

"Oh it's on." She perks up, rolling her hips upward until he's fully sheathed inside of her, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Before he can even make the connection with his brain that he's buried inside of his blonde seductress of a girlfriend, she's rolling her hips upward again and again. One more push upward and he nearly drops on top of her.

"Betts this isn't a game, your parents are home." He growls against her flushed skin, fisting his shirt she's wearing as he pushes himself in deeper. 

"Jesus, Elizabeth." Her hips roll roughly against his, her nails dragging down his stomach underneath the thick knit sweater. 

"Do me harder Juggie, please." Her lips curve into a deliciously devil-like smile and he stills his hips until she's whimpering like a wounded animal, begging him to pick up the pace again.

"You want me to break you Betts?" He laughs into her shoulder and quickly, his hand pulls her thigh upward to rest on his hip, pushing forward over and over until his eyes are rolling to the back of his head again, panting in her ear.

"You're too much of a softy Juggie." She teases.

"Funny. Shut up." He groans, rocking with her harder until the springs in the bed she's had since she was 10 start to creak, the wood of the headboard slamming against the wall.

She cries, wanting him to pick up the pace even more. His hand slides over her mouth, held there to keep her quiet, her hips rocking up to meet his the moment his roll forward again. 

"You're parents aren't deaf Elizabeth." She nods quickly, pulling his hand away from her mouth. A floorboard creaks out in the hallway, but she holds him tight against her. 

"Keep going." His hand slips under her shirt, tightly gripping her waist, his fingers digging into her warm skin. The pressure builds up all over again and she swears to herself, it's never felt this good before. Maybe she was biased because he was her best friend, but Christ, he knew how to hit all the right spots inside of her, where to touch her at every exact moment. 

"Fuck, I wanna come in you so bad, Elizabeth." He grunted in her ear, fingers digging deeper into her waist, harder and harder. She takes a moment to comprehend what he just said to her as if each time he thrusted into her she lost the right to understand, as if he had been actually fucking her brains out.

"But not yet-" The blood rushes to her head, desperate to let go, but he's torturing her.

"Don't come Betts."

"But-" 

"Not yet Betts." He continues to rock with her harder, and a little bit faster. Her hand caresses his face, moving up to brush the hair from his eyes. 

"C'mon." He grunts, thumb pressed between them until her blood stills.

"Shit." Her jaw fell slack, mouth opened in a sharp cry as he came inside of her, hard.

"We're screwed." She panted out, forehead resting against his. 

"Oh yeah, I know."

\-----

 

"Hey, can I tell my mom I'm headed to your house after school." Betty moves around the salad on her tray with her fork, looking between Veronica and her boyfriend nervously.

"But you won't be? I'm confused." She looks up from her latte, her finger wrapped around the pearls on her neck.

"Me and Jug got in trouble."

"Yeah someone can't shut up." He mumbles, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

"Jug. I still live across the way. You aren't quiet either, not that I wanted to know." Archie's face scrunched up in disgust.

"Thank you!" Betty squealed, Jughead annoyed and her giddy as usual.


	7. vanilla

It was the perfect day, family dinner, Alice's peach pie and Jug's endless laughter filling the room. He'd been the perfect gentlemen all night, pulling her chair out for her, helping Alice with the dishes. It was perfect, almost perfect. Until Alice made a comment she shouldn't have about Fp and Betty burst into flames. Jughead held her back by her arms as she screamed at her mother, her fingernails digging into her skin. 

"It's not worth it Betts." He had pulled her out the front door, brushing the hair away from her face, puffed and teary eyed. 

"I wanna get out of here Juggie." She croaked, eyes shut together tightly as she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. 

"C'mon." 

\-----

They'd never spent the night together before, but he figured she'd need it after tonight. So he led her to the trailer, the ride there in Fred's truck silent as she calmed her breathing and wiped harshly at the tears running down her cheeks. 

He helps her out of the car, heart aching at her tears. With the key under the mat he unlocks the door, letting her in first and watching her carefully as she shrugs off her cardigan, tight fit t-shirt snug against her chest. She kicks off her shoes and he pulls his beanie off of his head, letting it slip through his fingers and to the floor. 

"I'm sorry." She sighed. Tonight had blown up so quickly when all she wanted was to give Alice the chance to know and understand her boyfriend, what her future would be like. 

"Nothing to be sorry about, Betts." He smiles tiredly, locking the door behind him. 

"I just need to get some sleep." She looked down at her feet, shifting uncomfortably, anxious and excited to be close to him again. She looks to him in passing on her way to the bed room, pulling her skirt down her legs once behind the door and pulling back the sheets. She hadn't planned on anything to happen, but then he walks in, pulling his sweater over his head and all of her innocence flies out the open bedroom window. 

She curls up under the sheets, watching as he unbuckles and unzips his jeans, hair curling down around his forehead, slighting obstructing her view of his eyes. When he climbs in next to her, her heart beats a little faster, though it always did when she was with him. 

For a moment they're just looking at each other, eyes on one another's, plenty of space in between each other. It wasn't uncomfortable, just unknown. 

His hand reaches to brush her hair out of her face, sliding down her neck, her arm and then her waist, pulling her toward him. She giggles as he holds her tightly against him and he begins to laugh too, before realizing that when his leg brushes against hers all he can feel is bare skin, she had nothing but her underwear on underneath those sheets. 

He sucks in air, holding his breath as he works up the courage to move his hand underneath the sheets. They'd never gotten too far before. Her eyes have not left his, laying on her side and lifting her leg to rest over his hip. 

A moment passes and she rolls her hips forward, pressing flush against his causing him to blink slowly. She does it again, slower this time, more drawn out and even harder. 

He can't help the groan that vibrates through his throat, restrained from passing his lips as he bites down with his teeth. His hand between them, he lets it run over the material of her pink cotton panties, pressing his index finger into her and God, she's soaked. The gasp that leaves her lips leaves him breathless. 

His hand pushes on her hip, growling as he shoves her to lay on her back. Instead of rolling on top of her he's between her legs, sheets kicked down to their feet, his lips on her stomach, not a word said yet. She feels the butterflies as he progressively kisses lower, lips pressed to her clit through the material of her underwear, making her squirm. 

His lips press harder at her reaction, blue eyes looking up at her. His lips move down lower, tongue pressing into her. Her hips lift slightly off the bed before he growls, pushing her back down roughly. 

God, she's so fucking soaked through her underwear and she tastes like strawberries and cream and it's making his head spin. Tongue still pressing into her, his nose nudges her clit and she's a fucking mess above him, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, fingers messing through his curls.

It's too good, it's all too much, the way she tastes the way she moans, but he needs more. She's already coming at this point, but he still needs more. Still mid orgasm he has her panties halfway down her legs, and then all the way off. His tongue is back between her legs and she's with out a doubt the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. 

Tongue inside of her, nose pressed to her, his nails scraping into the skin of her thighs and she's coming within minutes again. 

Alice would've been the reason she didn't want to go home at first, but now for sure it was because of his tongue. 

Tasting her once was all it took to be hooked. 

And the next time Alice invites them for dinner he tells her to wait in the living room, that him and Betty could handle the dishes this time. But when she leaves, other plans in mind he pushes her against the counter and drops to his knees, panties at her ankles and skirt pushed up. 

"You fall and the only place this tongue will be is in your mouth." 

She nods quickly at his words, fingers in his hair as he begins to fuck her with his mouth, lips pressed to her, fingers coaxing inside of her. Her legs feel hardly stable. There's no way she can stand, not when he's looking up at her with his hooded, innocent baby blue eyes, his lips wrapped around her clit. 

Her hands grip the counter till her knuckles are white and she's thankful she didn't mind the pain of her teeth biting into her lip till she drew blood just so she could be quiet. She practically slides down the counter, look of satisfaction on his face as she falls against his chest, panting into his neck.

"S-Sorry." She whimpers, her fingers curling into his hair, still in a post orgasm haze.

"Don't worry. Can't go without my head between your legs for more than a day." He says, revealing his threat to be a lie. He smiles sheepishly at her and she presses her lips to his, the taste of herself in her mouth.

\-----

"You and Arch have had sex right?" Betty twirls her straw nervously, sitting with her legs crossed in a booth at Pop's, Veronica across from her.

"Yeah." She nods, smile on her lips.

"Has he ever, like-" Betty's face flushes pink.

"What? Spit it out, B."

"-gone down on you."

"Oh! No, why do you ask." Veronica's eyes go wide.

"Has Jughead?" Her eyes grow wider and she leans in toward Betty, waiting for a response. 

"Speechless, must be good, huh?"

\-----

Late at night, wrapped among the sheets Jughead is shoveling down the rest of Fp's birthday cake, Betty at his side, a bag of chips in hand. 

"You know-" Mid crunch she looks to her boyfriend, chocolate on his lip and she laughs, interrupting herself. 

"What?" He rolls his eyes, licking his lips.

"Veronica told me, Archie's never-" Her eyes look downward and he chuckles.

"Eaten her out? Not surprised. Arch seems pretty...vanilla." He takes another bite of cake before handing off the piece to her. 

"Hate vanilla." She spoons a piece into her mouth, laughing at him.

"Aren't you glad I'm not?"


	8. rough

It confused her beyond belief, how he could be so different. In front of her parents, in front of their friends. He would kiss her cheek and hold his arm around her shoulder. He would peck her lips lovingly, never with tongue. He would tickle her just to watch her laugh. He would wrap his jacket around her shoulders when it was cold on the walk home with Archie and Ronnie close by. He was the perfect gentlemen. 

Until they got home. Until they were alone. Until they were behind the closed door of the trailer. And then her skirt was lifted up just slightly, her underwear barely down her legs before his pants are at his ankles and he's bending her over the desk, the kitchen counter, the dining room table. 

It's just like every other Thursday night. They're in a booth at Pops, his arm around her with Archie and Ronnie across from them. He's smiling at her, dough eyed, young and in love as she laughs at something stupid Archie said. He pulls her closer by her waist just slightly, watching as she leans into him comfortably and he sighs, happily. He's just being sweet, the gentlemen he always is she thinks, until under the table his hand is pushing apart her thighs, thumb pressed over the heart shaped bruise he left with his lips on her right thigh. 

The smile drops from her face, her movements stilled. He's not looking at her, still carrying on conversation with Ronnie about whatever classic movie they'd been talking about since they sat down. She swallows hard, milkshake at her fingertips, clutching the base of the glass as he caresses her thigh gently, slowly moving upward. 

And when he gets closer, his thumb presses into her right through the material of her pink cotton underwear. The sharp gasp goes unnoticed by Archie, but when he looks up from his milkshake he notices the pained look on her face. He pushes her underwear aside, finger dipping inside of her.

"Betty, You good?" His face twists in confusion, eyebrows knitted together. 

"Yeah A-Arch." She manages to stutter out, hands moving from her glass to press flat on the table. 

His thumb moves torturously in circles, pressing harder. It's highly unfair. She looks to him eyes wide as she leans back against the booth. He's looking at Veronica, other hand propping his head up as he fucks her with his hand under the table. When it's unbearable her nails dig into the skin of his wrist, hard enough that there will be marks, but he doesn't flinch. 

"Let's go home, yeah?" He looks to her, grinning as he pulls his hand out from under her skirt, throwing his arm around her shoulder. She nods quickly, eying the hand he just had inside of her.

"Walk us home guys?" He's all smiles, holding his hand out to his girlfriend to lead her out of the booth. He opens the door for her, shrugs his coat off, throwing it over her shoulders and pulls her into his side, arm around her waist. 

"You ready to go home, Betts?" He looks into her eyes, his own growing darker. She nods, her lips pressed into a firm line, excited and nervous altogether for what was to come. The walk home is silent, just the two of them a while off behind Archie and Ronnie, his hand firmly around her waist.

"Alright Jug, see ya. Betty c'mon." Arch leans against the railing as Jughead pulls Betty up the stairs with him, still latched to her side.

"I think Betty's gonna stay for awhile, right Betts?" He pulls her closer, looking up and down her face, blue eyes full of humor and confidence. 

"Yeah." She swallows hard, eyes looking from Archie to him and back. When he leads her inside the smile drops from his face. The door slams shut and she's against it, neck smothered with his lips. Her eyes close, and his lips are replaced with the cold air circulating through the opened living room window.

"C'mere." He pulls her into the kitchen, turning her quickly around and pressing her back to his front. 

"You remember being right here don't you Elizabeth?" She's bent over the counter, her skirt lifted and underwear halfway down her thighs, his jeans and boxers at his ankles. Her cheek is pressed into the cold countertop.

"Yeah-Yes..."

"What did I do to you that night, tell me." He leans forward over her back, lips pressed to her neck.

"You fucked me, right here Juggie." She gasps out, his teeth sinking into her shoulder.

"How did I do it Elizabeth?" He pulls her hips backward as he pushes his forward.

"Hard, Juggie."

"You want me to do it again?" He fingertips push under her shirt, holding her hips tightly, nails digging into her soft porcelain skin. 

"Yes-Yes Juggie please." When he's inside of her she can't see straight, eyes rolling to the back of her head and her ears begin to ring. His hips push forcefully into her, her stomach pressing harshly into the counter, her head pressed to the table as she cries out. When she's close he pulls away, and then he continues, again and again he repeats till she can't hold her self up, his hands having to hold her by the waist and in place. 

"Tell me when you can't take it." His fingers curl through her hair, pulling back gently. It's all to much, causing sensory overload, she couldn't take it from the beginning. He pulls away and she almost falls, but he catches her, hoisting her up onto the countertop, yanking her underwear down the rest of the way. 

Then he's inside of her again and she can perfectly see the way he disappears into her and it's quite deliciously the most sinful thing she's ever seen in her life. Her head hits the cabinet, eyes closed tightly before she feels his hand at her jaw, thumb pressed into her cheek.

He leans forward, his teeth catching her lip in between and he bites, hard. She cries out, hands around his neck as the blood draws from her bottom lip and he licks it away. 

"Watch, sunshine." His thumb presses harder into her cheek, his eyes darting down to where hers are as she does what she's asked. Her legs begin to shake and her back begins to arch, pressing her closer to him. Leaning forward her teeth bite harshly into his shoulder, moaning against his sweaty skin. She shakes from her head to her toes, crying into his shoulder unapologetically loud. She collapses into him and he's completely overwhelmed by the scent of her, sweat, lilacs, and honey in all. When he pulls away from her she keeps her arms wrapped around him, forehead pressed to his. 

He leaned in, kissing her languidly and when she turned away for a moment, still breathless and dizzy, he continued, lips at her jaw. He pressed soft kisses down her throat making her burst into a fit of her sugar sweet giggles. 

"I wasn't too rough was I?" His eyes soften, his hand splayed out on the side of she neck.

"You were the best, Juggie."

"Yuck, Blegh-" His eyes shut and he shakes his head quickly. 

"Shut up. You're the best and you know it-" The door opens, Archie charging through. 

"Jug, I've got your phone, I think we-Oh, Oh my God!" 

"Holy shit! Archie!" Betty screamed, pulling her skirt down, Jughead quickly pulling his jeans up from around his ankles.

"My God, Archie. Knock." Jughead holds his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"So is it-" 

"If you ask if it's good I'm gonna kill you. Get out." Jughead groans, pointing to the door, Betty laughing behind him before he turns around and throws her a look. 

"Shut up." He growls.


	9. want

The first time left her head spinning. It wasn't on her bed, wrapped in her pink sheets with candles lit and music playing. He had fucked her, hard against the kitchen counter, and again bent over the table and now everyday, she was craving for it again. It had been days since he touched her. So the moment he walks through the door Monday after school, she pushes him straight down onto the couch. Her parents were upstairs, but she couldn't care, she couldn't think about that when he was kissing her neck the way he was.

"We shouldn't do this here." His nails dug into her skin, rising under her skirt as she rolled her hips forward. She hadn't been wearing any underwear. He could tell the moment he walked in the door. 

"Baby, stop." His grip tightens on her waist.

"No, we can do it right here." She whined, her fingers at his belt, unbuckling and then pulling down the zipper of his jeans.

"No, no we can't Betty." He watches her, her hand disappearing past his boxers, her hand tightening around him. She moves herself up further on his lap, pushing him inside of her and he sinks into her so incredibly easily. 

"Betty-" He watches himself sink into her, the way he completely disappears inside of her and he tucks his lip between his teeth because it's by far the most deliciously sinful thing he's ever seen. 

"Fuck." His eyes shut tight, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her flush against him. Her thighs begin to burn, rocking so hard on top of him.

"You feel so deep Juggie." She cries in his ear, the sound of him slipping into her making her cry out even louder.

"You gotta hurry, okay?" She moves faster now, nodding while her face is buried in his neck, whimpering against his skin. Her arms wrap around his neck, both holding tight as she rocks forward again and again. 

His thumb presses between her legs and his eyes open just to watch her shake like only he knows how to make her do. She pulls back from his neck, now bruised and bitten, eyes on his as her mouth drops open, panting and exhaling hotly against his face. She comes, hard, after the feeling of him letting go and pulsing inside of her like he was. Full of bliss and high on the scent of him, she buries her face back into him, letting him fill her completely. When the floorboard creaks upstairs she quickly lifts her hips, watching as he pulls out of her and quickly zips his jeans back up. 

"Off of each other you two." Alice points her finger as she walks down the stairs, Betty scrambling off of him, grin on her face as her mother isn't looking. At least they hadn't been caught in the act, but they might as well have been, looking down he notices traces of her on his jeans. 

"Jesus, Betty."

\-----

Betty had planned the perfect day, movies and snacks at Fp's trailer. Veronica insisted her and Archie come of course. Which would of ruined anyone's plan to fuck their boyfriend, but not Betty's. Veronica and Archie had passed out on the floor of the living room in front of the couch, the movie still running. Jughead had been trying to keep up after the mess, at the sink and washing dishes that his friends had left behind. 

Her hands wrapped around him, inching lower and lower. He groaned, unable to decide if he was going to give in for the second time this week to her inappropriate timing.

"You've got to stop doing this." He shut off the water, turning to her. 

"But I want you Juggie." She looked up at him, green eyes turning darker.

"Fine." He groaned again with faux annoyance, rolling his eyes.

"Bend over." He gestured to the kitchen table and she happily walked toward it, bending over. If their friends woke up they'd be screwed. Her head is pressed flat against the table, turned to look over her friends, anxious they'd wake up as she was in no mood to be quiet.

Her skirt is quickly lifted, his belt unbuckled and pants unzipped. Hard, he pushes into her, watching as she shutters at the feeling. She sucks in air, gasping as he moves quickly. 

"You're not being a good girl lately." His teeth grit together, hips pushing into her harder. 

"It's your fault for making me want you, Juggie." He lets out a laugh, panting as she pushes her hips back into his. God she had been so incredibly soaked in desire for him, she always was. It made his head spin. Just the sound of her pulling him in got him closer every second. 

Veronica begins to stir and Jughead quickly pulls out of her, pulling her by the back of her arm to stand up, but she hardly can. He buckles back up in a hurry, Veronica rubbing her eyes and yawning as she looks around the room.

"Hey guys." She smiles sweetly, the both of them panting going unnoticed. 

"Hey." Betty lets out in a huff.

\-----

"Do you realize how screwed we would have been if she saw us? I'd never hear the end of it." Jughead runs a hand through his hair, looking over Betty. She smiles at him innocently as she placed another dish in the sink, Archie and Veronica long gone. 

"Oh, its fine Juggie." She brushes it off, walking closer toward him. 

"What has gotten into you lately?" His voice lowers, watching as she wraps her arms around him, cheek pressed to his chest.

"You." She looks up to him. 

"You fill me with such incredible need, Juggie." His eyes begin to darken, his heart begins to beat faster.

"I want you to do things to me I didn't even know I could think of." 

"I want you to tie me up and-" His movements stop her and she watches at he pulls his belt out of the loops.

"Go lay on the bed." His lips curve up into a smile, watching as she quickly runs toward the room, her laughter filling his ears. He follows after her, belt in hand. 

He admires her, golden hair spread among the sheets, her chest rising and falling as she breathed quickly in anticipation. And he can't wait another minute, laying himself on top of her, belt tight and tied around her wrists above her head. Jeans unzipped and skirt pushed up to her hips he kneels in front of her, pulling her legs to bring her closer. Hands on her hips he lifts them upward, letting her cries ring through his ears as he pushes into her quickly. 

She sees nothing but blackness as he pushes his hips forward again and again. She loved it, she couldn't get enough of it. Every time he wasn't inside of her was a moment wasted. 

"Juggie-" She cries out, eyes locked with his and he breathes out her name, unable to speak higher than a whisper at the rate he was pushing into her. 

His hold tightens on her, her hips beginning to ache. 

"Juggie, please." She lifted her hips upward, higher and higher off the bed. He pulled her forward as he fell back on the bed, begging her to ride him the sinful way she does. Sitting up, she puts her tied up hands over his head, wrapped around his neck as she begins to rock her hips. The both of them let go hard, into and onto each other, panting and breathless. 

"You're never gonna let me rest are you?" He smiles against her skin, lips pressing against her gently.

"Never."


	10. pictures

It was getting harder and harder to make time for each other. Everything in their lives were pulling them the opposite direction. Every moment alone was an intimate one, built up passion and desire exploding all at once. At least when he wasn't with her he could think of her.

She was beautiful. God, you didn't even have to see her to know she was beautiful. Hearing her name gave you the hint. Hearing about her soft spoken personality just told you everything you needed to know. She was so god damn beautiful. Her hair was golden, her eyes were green, her lips curved up into the most beautiful smile when she let out a sugar sweet laugh. She would be the best thing God ever made if he believed in him. Not perfect, because he hates that word and she does too, but she was pretty damn close. 

He'd grown into the habit of taking pictures of her, anywhere and all the time. When the sun hit her just right, or when she was tangled up in her sheets, giddy and high after they'd made love. Every moment with her was an opportunity. 

And one night he's bored, she's working late on some school project with Ethel and Ronnie and so he looks through his camera filled with pictures of her. He can't help when his lips curve into a smile, eyeing the picture he'd taken of her, the sunset behind her and a rolling field of flowers ahead of her. Although it's the next one that takes his breath away. Her golden hair is falling around her face, messy from the way his fingers were tugging through it that night, her eyes darker than usual, the sheets barely covering her and it's the most sinful thing he's ever seen. 

It was unfair almost, how much she could affect him without even being there. Since being with her he's never had to do such a thing when she was always there to take care of him but now that she's gone he can't help it. Quickly unbuckling his belt, hands slipping past his jeans and boxers altogether. He can't stop thinking of her and it's killing him. He can't stop thinking about the filth that rolls out her mouth whenever they're alone, or the sinful ways she can move. God, was she anything but innocent. 

He's so close to losing himself, the sighing of the hinges of the door going unnoticed as she pushes it open, lip between her teeth and one hand on her hip.

"Couldn't wait till I got home, Juggie?" Her voice is playful, eyes full of mischief as she closed the door behind her, pressing her back to it. 

"Jesus, get over here." He's far from embarrassed, he had walked in on her many times, hand between her legs, moaning his name unashamed. She giggles, her curls swaying around her face as she kicks off her shoes, running to crawl onto the bed, bouncing on her knees.

"What do you want me to do Juggie?" She climbs on top of him, hands on either side of his neck as she rolls her hips forward. His eyes rolls to the back of his head, her hands pulling his boxers to rest on his hips, out of the way of what she needs and wants. 

Pulling her underwear to the side she rolls her hips again, and he's inside of her so incredibly easily. Her hips roll forward again and again, hands pressed to his chest. He can't see straight, he can't think. She's whimpering like crazy, eyes never leaving his and he thinks to himself that she's the devil, he swears on it. She chants his name like a mantra, over and over and it's getting louder. Her parents may be asleep but they aren't deaf and if they got caught it wouldn't be the first time. 

"You think about me when you touch yourself Jug?" She stills herself and his eyes open at the loss of the feeling of her rocking hips. He looks at her, how could anyone think she was innocent? She was so fucking far from it.

"You already know the answer Elizabeth." His teeth grit together, hands on her waist in attempt to get her moving. 

She starts to rock again, harder and a little bit faster, watching as his eyes close and lip quivers. 

"You feel so much deeper like this Juggie." Her eyes flutter closed, hand reaching down in between her legs.

"Jesus, Betts." He can't help but lose it at the sight and he wishes he could capture that look on her face as she lets go, with his camera. 

"But I wanna keep going." She whines, unsatisfied, giving him no time to recover as the speed of her hips pick up again. 

"Betts, I can't-" his teeth grind together harder, one hand on her hip as she rocks herself on top of him. She's sucking all the energy out of him, rocking faster and faster and he can't take it. But before he knows it she's coming again, whining and whimpering before she falls to his side, unable to hold herself up.

"If I catch you trying to finish yourself off with out me again I swear Jones."

\-----

Second period, the day as barely begun as he walks in through Riverdale High's doors. He should of been in math right now at Southside, but now that it's been a week since he's seen her and she was texting him things she should have he couldn't help it. 

She didn't know he was coming, surprise on her face as he quickly grabbed her arm in passing as she was about to enter history. 

"Juggie-" She looked between the classroom and his face as he tightened his hold on her arm. 

"Where are we going?" She questioned, giggling as he pulled her down the hall, their fingers laced together, in a rush to find some place quiet.

"Just come on." He chuckled, looking down each way of the now abandoned hallway as the bell rung, backing her up to be pressed against one of the lockers lining the walls. 

His lips are warm, leaving her dizzy and drunk as he delves in deeper, hand on her neck. 

He pushed her against the locker, his fingers digging into her hips, pulling them closer together than before. Her lips parted, his lips just an inch or two from hers before pressing together again, her fingers pressing into the leather of his jacket.

"Closet, by the blue and gold office. You remember the one." She mutters, lips against his throat. He nods once, again pulling her down the hallway. He pulls her inside, the both of them almost tripping and pushing over the supplies lined along the walls and scattered on the floor. 

Her legs are around his waist and he's inside of her, fast and easy, clothes pushed out of the way in all the right places. She's hardly trying to be quiet, his hand having to cover her mouth as he rolls his hips into her. When she finally lets go, untangling herself from him, half sliding down the wall, unable to hold herself up he just looks at her.

"If you text me while I'm at school again I swear Cooper."


	11. the jacket

Her head rested against the window, alone and quietly she sat in Pop's booth, a book at her fingertips, a strawberry milkshake close by. She noticed him slide in next to her, arm snaking around her waist, lips pressed to her forehead as he tried to nuzzle her neck. She pulled back slightly, squishing herself closer to the window which he didn't give her much room to do, scooting closer.

"Did I do something?" He laughs out jokingly, thumb rubbing circles on her knee before his face drops after her long pause.

"Oh. Ok." He takes the hint.

"This is still about the jacket." They had already fought about it. More than once. She was afraid of losing him and he was afraid of losing her. She yelled at him till her voice was hoarse, that he didn't understand what it meant to feel like she did, to have this expectation on your shoulders. And he laughed in her face. He laughed so coldly it shook her to the core. Of course he knew. He had to protect her now and that is by far the biggest responsibility of his life that he has gladly taken. Everything he did now was for her. He laughed in her face and she slammed her fists against his chest until she cried. And then he fucked her against the floor almost like she had a lesson she needed to learn.

The problem should have been resolved by now, but almost a week later and it's not because he keeps losing himself in the way her lips taste and the way her hair smells and he just immediately lets it go. She always wins. 

"Nuh uh." He knows her. And he knows her well. It bothers her sometimes, because he'll know what she's feeling even when she doesn't. 

"Yeah. It is." He nods, his arm resting on the booth behind her.

"No." She shakes her head once, crossing her arms over her chest after roughly slamming her book on the table. 

"Betts." His voice lowers, angry she was shutting him out now. He hated being angry with her, but she was so infuriating. God, she was so infuriating, but he can never stay mad at her. Her green eyes shine the way that they do and he loses it, her golden hair falls around her face like a halo and he can't help himself, she speaks in that angelic way she does and he's just a goner. He can't stay mad at her. 

"Betts, if I fall into the darkness I'm taking you with me." He declares, pulling her by her shoulder into his chest.

"Well, good." She nods once, eyes still ahead of her.

"Can I get a kiss now?" He murmurs sweetly against the baby soft skin of her cheek. She melts into him, finally moving closer. 

"I guess." She rolls her eyes playfully, turning to meet his lips. Her breathing slightly impairs and her heart beats faster and then his tongue is in her mouth and she swears she sees a sky full of stars. With a wet pop of their lips he pulls away, but her fingers thread through his hair at his neck and she's pulling him in again, desperate. 

Their lips part and meet again and part and meet again. His mouth now tastes only of her.

"Take me home Juggie." She sighs against his lips, his fingertips playing with the edge of her skirt. 

"Bathroom." He growls into her ear and she swallows hard.

"O-okay." She nods quickly. Following as he grabs her by the wrist, pulling her into the bathroom and his head ducks quickly to see if any stall was occupied before he pushes her by the shoulders into the last one, sending her stumbling backward. 

Pushed against the cold metal of the stall, panting and face flushed was Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper hitching a leg up to his waist. Her lips nipped at his neck, leaving him breathless, her fingers curling tighter with his as his hands rested above his head. Betty Cooper had Jughead Jones pinned to the bathroom stall in a very occupied diner, who would have thought?

Her hips pushed with his and not slowly, it was a blindingly fast pace, he couldn't see, he couldn't breathe. He could feel her through his jeans and it was driving him crazy.

"Betts-." He pushes her over and her fingers inch under his shirt, nails scraping down his chest, leaving angry red crescents in their wake. 

"Juggie, I don't wanna stop." Her thigh tightening its hold around his waist, her breathing becoming more shallow if possible. 

"Yeah, I got that." His eyes shut tightly, as her teeth scrape against his collarbone. 

"C'mon, touch me Juggie." Her eyes are on his and they never leave as he quickly slides his hand between her legs at her request. Her mouth drops open letting a hot breath down his neck, already feeling warm in the pit of her stomach as he reaches closer to where she wants him.

"Christ you're not wearing any-" He pulls her face back from the crook of his neck, fisting her hair tightly, noses smushed together, their hot and heavy breathing exhaling into each other's mouths. She moves her hips again, upward toward his hand.

"What's gotten into you?" He chokes out, and then her nails dig into the side of his neck, tongue delving deeper and deeper into his mouth, his free hand pressed to the gentle skin by her shoulder blades, under the fabric of the t-shirt she's wearing.

"Apparently not you." She muffles the words against his now littered neck. 

"Am I playing with fire here?" He groans. She's killing him. 

"Lose control on me." She whispers and then his hand is where she wants it and the blood rushes to her head. His hand is keen against her, fingers curling inside of her. 

"Jug-" She's as quiet as she'll get and he knows there's nothing he can do about the sound, Betty's loud and that's that. 

"I can't-I can't-, I'll-" her nails dig into his wrist, pulling his hand out from under her skirt, fingers quickly tugging his belt lose, yanking boxers and jeans to rest around his ankles. He's inside of her within seconds. It's not slow, it's not sweet and he's not whispering any wit filled remarks in her ear like he usually is. She's seeing nothing but blackness as he fucks her into the stall wall, one leg still perched around his waist until he's lifting the other up. Both around his waist now, she's practically crying his name like it's the sweetest thing he's ever heard. 

"Come." He demands, she's holding off and he can tell. 

"No, more, Juggie-" She whines, eyes locked with his, lips parted in quick pants. 

"N-no." She repeats herself, her head falling forward to rest on his shoulder.

"Damn it Elizabeth, c'mon." His thumb presses harshly right where she needs it, and she wants to hold on, she wants to keep going but his thumb doesn't stop coaxing there until she's shaking uncontrollably. Her toes curl inside her pink flats and he grunts into her ear as she tightens herself around him. Her head slams back against the metal, mouth opened in a pleasure spiked shout. 

Her face is buried in his neck again as he pulls away from her, pressing his lips to her languidly.

"You're an idiot by the way." His lips are soft against hers.

"Gee, thanks Juggie." She hits his chest, then moves, fixing her skirt on her hips. 

"No, I mean...if you think I'm going to leave you."

"You better not."

"Mhm, i can't." He forcefully turns her around, her cheek pressed to the cold metal as he lifts her skirt again.

And the next day when Jughead awaits her arrival to the booth, Archie and Ronnie on the other side, his mouth runs dry as she walks in, the bell chiming as she opens the door. His leather jacket is perched on her shoulders, the sleeves hanging at her side. Within the minute he has her in the same bathroom stall as he drops to his knees in front of her, tugging her skirt down her legs, jacket still resting on her shoulders.

"This is about the jacket?"

"This is about the jacket."


	12. fingers

Tired was written all over her face, bags under her eyes and skin a pale gray after a long day. She'd been working with her parents at the Register all week, beyond ready to have the day off tomorrow and spend all day in bed with her favorite boy. She practically barrels through the door, tripping over the rug at the front, catching herself on the handle. She huffs out in annoyance, shrugging off her jacket, eyes scanning the living room.

No where to be seen, she makes the assumption he's in the bedroom, dragging her feet across the floor and pushing the door open. He's spread on the bed, hair falling perfectly over his eyes, jeans on and shirt long gone. 

"Jug-" She breathes out.

"Mhm-" His eyes flutter open, looking over her face, eyebrows furrowed together with worry.

"Oh, Betts c'mere. What is it?"

"Everything. My head, shoulders, my back. I'm exhausted and-" She's near tears, her fingers rubbing her temples, head down. 

"Okay, okay, c'mere." He's kneeling at the end of the bed, pulling her by her arm to rest her back against his warm, olive toned skin. She's resting between his legs, his hands at her shoulders, fingers digging deeply into her in hopes to relieve her tension. 

"How's that?" She sighs, relaxed, eyes closed and almost rolling to the back of her head.

"God-" The moan passing her lips is involuntary and it sends shivers down his spine, goosebumps pricking his flushed skin. Her head falls back slightly, resting on his shoulder as she sighs again.

"-Your fingers are-"

"This isn't all they can do." His lips are at the shell of her ear, this time sending shivers down her spine. She tenses in his arms, his fingertips running along her soft pale skin.

"Juggie-"

"A good stress reliever." He's smug, lips turned upward in a shit eating grin. He pulls her dress up her thighs, parting her legs. Her head still resting on his shoulder, he presses his lips to her ear again.

"I want you to do it." She swallows thickly. He wants her to touch herself. 

"I want you to-" She begins, but his fingers wrap around her small wrist, pulling it between her legs. 

"I will, just start off for me." She nods once, her fingers between her thighs, starting slowly. Impatient she slips a finger in, then another, and then one more. It's good, rightfully so, just not as good as he is. 

"Talk to me Betty, how's it feel." His hot breath is traveling down her neck, his fingers pressed into her thighs, pulling her legs farther apart as she touched herself.

"G-good" Her fingers curl upward, her eyes shut tight and mouth opening slightly. Her breathing starts to pick up, to shallow. All of his blood is rushing south. She is the hottest thing he's even known. 

"Yeah?" He swallows, her hips lifting against her hand, his hands running along her hips. 

"N-not as good as you." Her words are broken, she's getting closer and he can tell.

"Why's that Betty?" His eyes are between her legs, watching as her fingers dip into herself over and over, pumping faster as the seconds pass, traces of herself on her hand. Through her dress she feels the heat of his skin and it's driving her crazy, heating her up as well.

"Yours are...rougher." It was a big contrast. Her fingers were soft, his were longer, rougher, calloused. It felt all more intense. 

"Do you want me to do it?" His fingers wrap around her wrist, stopping her movements altogether, a whine passing her lips.

"Yes." She cries, the grin on his lips growing wider.

"Yes, what?" 

"I want you to fuck me with your fingers." 

"How?" He plans on teasing her until she breaks.

"F-fast, rough."

"You want me to be rough with you?" 

"Y-yes."

"When you're close, you tell me." His fingers slip between her legs, wetness already coating his fingertips.

Her hips lift against his touch and she bites down on her lips, hard. His thumb flicks over her clit, her lips parting as she lets out a cry, her hot breath against his face. She moans directly in his ear, his jeans tightening even more than he thought possible. He pumps a finger into her, and then another and another, her breathing quickening and her moans becoming louder. 

His fingers move fast, quicker than hers can. Her nails press into his thigh, lifting her hips upward against his hand, his palm pressing into her clit. 

"I'm-" She begins to shake, and his movements stop, fingers pulled out of her and practically dripping evidence of her. It's highly unfair, he's left her panting, hair sticking to her forehead. He waits a minute or two, watching the way her chest rises and falls, fast at first and then slower as the seconds pass. And soon enough his fingers curl into her again, rough, fast, bringing her close with in a matter of seconds. 

"Tell me when." 

"Jug-" She continues scraping her nails against his jean clad thighs, scratching the material, watching the way his fingers disappear into her so incredibly easily. 

"I'm close."

"Again." He whispers after a minute or so had passed. It was driving her crazy, his fingers coaxing at that spot inside of her, his palm pressed to her clit. She was close again with in seconds, 

"Juggie."

"Fuck-I can't." He pushes his fingers in again, rougher, harder this time, curling upward. 

"You can do it." His lips press to her forehead, her head turned to look back at him, green eyes desperate and looking up into his. 

"I'm gonna come-" Eyes still on his, her nails dig into the skin of his wrist and it'll leave marks for sure. 

"Do it." The words leave his mouth and not a second later she's coming around his fingers, back arched and lifting herself upward against his hand, a hand on his thigh and one over his own, still inside of her. Afterward she can't handle it, pulling his hand away quickly, panting in his ear. 

His fingers lift to his mouth, lips closing around them. She tastes sweet, just as he'd be craving. She feels at ease, resting against him, collapsed in his arms. 

"Fuck, I wanna be inside of you so bad." His words leave her dizzy. Her head turns again, nuzzling into his neck. Her lips press softly against his skin, mouth opening slightly before her teeth sink in gently. And then she bites, hard. He groans, a yelp filling his ears as he quickly turns her over, pinning her into the unmade bed. Her arms are above her head, his fingers around her wrists.

Roughly, his hips roll forward into hers. His jeans are strained against him, her dress is halfway up her thighs. She presses herself into him, wrapping her legs around his waist. One hand is all it takes to wrap around both of her wrists, the other quickly moving between them, belt undone and zipper unzipped, boxers pushed out of the way. 

"Talk to me-" He wants to hear the filth pass her lips, the way she talks when they're alone.

"Juggie-" 

"Talk to me Betty." He's desperate, wanting to hear her voice.

"Jug-" She's hesitant, hardly able to speak at the rate he's pushing into her, breathless, panting. 

"Betts-"

"I love when you fuck me like this, like you want to hurt me." She looks into his eyes, her hot breath hitting his face as she gives in to his pleading. 

"Do it harder." She cries, eyes closing as she lifts her hips. 

"Harder, like you hate me. C'mon Juggie." He's holding back and she can tell, but she wants more, she wants him to fuck her so hard she can't breathe.

"Tell me if-" He'd loved to fuck her till he breaks her, not if she wasn't comfortable though.

"I will." His hold tightens on her wrists, hips pushing forward now at a blinding pace. It almost hurts, but she loves the pain more than anything.

"Jesus, Betty you're so-" He can hardly get out a sentence, thrusting harder.

"-fucking-" Harder.

"-tight." Harder.

"I want-" She's breathless, the sound of him slipping in and out of her and the squeaking of the bed springs filling her ears. 

"What'd you want?" His lips are pressed to the corner of her mouth, his sweaty forehead pressed to her cheek as she whines.

"I want you to come inside me." She begs, hips rocking upward violently now. He hadn't been wearing a condom, she knew that, he knew that. But she needed to feel him, needed to feel the way he could fill her completely with himself. 

"Betty-" He groans, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. 

"Just do it. Please. I wanna-" She's out of words, all she wants is to feel him pulsing inside of her as he comes, it's all she needs. 

"Just do it." She cries, feeling him groan against her sweaty skin again. And he does. He lets go, hard, filling her up, pulsing inside of her. She cries out again, her bruised skin aching as his hands release her wrists, sliding down her hips and pulling them off the bed. He holds her tight against him, moaning in her ear. He collapses next to her, the traces of them spilling between her aching legs and onto the sheets.

She reaches next to her, her fingertips running over his fingers gently as she tries to steady her breathing. 

"Thank god for these."


	13. recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has mentions of self harm. Little bit of a slow burn. But smut nonetheless.

"Hey, sweetie. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Alice popped her head out the kitchen door, a small smile on her lips. However, her eyes were red, her face was tired, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Of course, what's up?" Elizabeth Cooper stepped down into the kitchen, her head cocked to the side in wonder. She was a straight A student, a cheerleader. She was friends with Veronica Lodge and Cheryl Blossom, the two most popular girls in school. She had an on the side fling with Archie Andrews. Her life was basically perfect, almost. 

"We're going to have someone stay with us for awhile-" Alice is hesitant.

"Who?" Her eyebrows raise.

"Forsythe Jones, you remember him? His father isn't in the best place and well-" Truthfully Alice Cooper had been in love with FP Jones since high school, and when learning that his son was on the streets with no where to go, of course she'd be the first to take him in. Betty's memories of Jughead flash before her eyes, 4 years old and in the treehouse. She nods, understanding her mothers history with the Jones'. Unknown to most, Alice had been having an affair with FP for at least a year, having already known Jughead for quite some time. But Betty, she had a lot to learn.

\-----

Jughead was the type of kid you stayed away from because you knew his history. He was a serpent, he was from the wrong side of the tracks, raised by a dad who tried his best but always got the short end of the stick. Of course he remembers Betty, long golden hair and big green eyes. But he assumes she just might be like everyone else. Perfect. Judgmental. He had a lot to learn too. 

It's a normal Summer Thursday. Betty is on the couch, long sleeves and sweatpants on, covering the past decade of scarring she'd left on her skin. The T.V is switched on, reruns of New Girl playing silently in the background as she stares blankly ahead. She doesn't even notice the doorbell ring, shaken from her trance as Alice opens the front door, smiling and laughing at something Jughead must of said before she grabs the one bag he owns from his hands. 

His leather jacket is snug over his shoulders and it shocks her to see her mother embracing someone like him. She shakes her head and turns back to the T.V.

\-----

He hadn't even said hi to her and it had been days. He assumed she must not remember him, so he couldn't bother. He'd sleep on the couch, Betty sometimes in passing in the middle of the night for a glass of water would quickly glance over him, jacket slung over the edge of the couch, hair messed up and shirt on the floor. He was good looking. There was no doubt about it. She wonders why she never noticed before. 

\-----

School starts up soon enough. Betty had been mutilating herself more than normal, the anxiety eating her alive. Medication just wasn't doing it anymore. There's only so much it can do. She'd been sitting at the table, pushing the food around on her plate with her fork.

"Is it bad today?" Alice looks to her daughter, who smiles slightly and shakes her head just to please her. Jughead catches the last half of the conversation, wondering what could be so terrible about her life. Jughead knows better than any one though not to be judgmental of those you don't know.

"The meds are good." Betty reassures her.

"You sure?" Alice knows her daughter, she wasn't very good at lying. 

"Of course."

\-----

She lets him walk her to school that morning. It was the start of a friendship, moving slowly.

And one night Veronica forces the both of them to see a double feature at the Bijou, Betty grabbing his hand quickly during the horror movie in fright. Slightly, just slight her sleeve of her shirt rises. And he sees it. 

\-----

"Why do you do that?" On the walk home he turns to her, although it's none of his business, he's curious. 

"You don't have to tell me." 

"It's ok, I want to." She smiles slightly before her lips press into a firm line.

"I must've been fourteen at the time-" She lets out a sigh before she continues. 

"-things were...alright I guess. My parents had been fighting, it was awful, nothing a teenager doesn't go through, but still. My father was a real asshole and one night they fighting had gone too far."

"My mom had gone to sleep. And he'd asked me to...you know. I couldn't...he was stronger than me. And now he's gone, he's gotten away with it and I just, I don't know, you know?"

"Betts-"

"I'm sorry." And he is, but he knows there's nothing he can do.

"You can't fix me. I have to do that on my own." She knows he would pity her. Everyone does once they know. But she also knows she's strong enough to overcome and recover. Just not right now. 

It felt good to tell someone. To talk about it. Tonight instead of her usual trip to the bathroom cabinet where the razor hides, she sits on the couch, next to him while an episode of her favorite show plays in the background.

\-----

It becomes a weekly thing. Double feature at the Bijou and burgers at Pop's. Sometimes with Veronica, most times with out. He makes her laugh, he makes her forget. She makes him laugh, she makes him forget. It's a perfect combination, just the two of them. She feels vulnerable with him, in a comforting way. And he feels the same.

And that night he kisses her, under the blue and red lights of Pop's diner. She smiles against his lips and he does hers. It's quick, it's soft, it's sweet. It's perfect, unlike them.

\-----

He doesn't want to make Betty uncomfortable, he wants things to go slowly. Sometimes she has different ideas. Alice isn't home this particular afternoon after school. And when they walk in the door, his beanie falling between his fingertips and onto the floor, she pushes him slightly to rest on the couch. 

Legs either side of his, she sits comfortably in his lap, his fingers pull through her hair and his lips kiss hers gently. She wants more. More than she can handle. She presses her hand to his throat, tongue delving deep into his mouth, tasting him. He tastes of nicotine and honey. She can't get enough. 

Her hips roll forward. Doing so, although her own actions makes her still. She's frozen. She clambers off of him, panting.

"Sorrysorrysorry-" Her face is flushed, eyes blown wide.

"Hey-"

"Don't. Not yet, that's fine." It's going to be a slow process. He knows that. He's more than willing to wait. 

And a week later she's more than willing to try. Maybe not go all the way, but she's ready to try at least something.

He'd been sitting at the kitchen table, piece of toast in his mouth and coffee in one hand.

"Juggie?" 

"Mhm-"

"I want you to touch me." He practically chokes, swallowing hard, pressing his hand flat against the table as he lets out a cough.

"Like-like...now?"

"Yeah-"

"You sure?" She nods quickly, pulling him by the sleeve of his gray, thickly knit sweater, practically tripping up the stairs as she drags him along. 

Pushed against her bed, sheets perfectly white and room a pinkish hue, he pulls away his beanie, letting his fall. She's smiling, green eyes bright and cheeks flushed pink. She looks innocent, unknowing about the world of pleasure. And God, was he about to show her how good it can be. 

She's pressed underneath him now, dress halfway up her thighs, his jeans tightening at the sight of her.

"Are you sure?" He exhaled deeply, there wasn't enough air in this world, she left him breathless. Her hips pushed up to his, thumb looped through the side of her panties, threatening to pull them down.

"Touch me." She whimpered in response leaving his head spinning. 

"I just want to make sure that you're sure about this." He questions one more time, slowly tugging down her panties before she even answers. 

"I'm sure." Her thighs are already spreading further and he has to close his eyes for a couple seconds before he passes out. She wants him to take every last ounce of her innocence and it becomes more and more tempting as he slides her panties all the way down her legs, fingertips trailing around the inside of her thighs.

"Please, Juggie. Please." She pleads. She opens her mouth again to speak, but he brings his lips to hers, warm tongues instantly meeting before she can get a word out. His fingers travel further between her thighs, slipping between her, her wetness already coating his fingertips.

Her hips lift against his touch. His thumb flicks over her clit, her lips parting as she lets out a cry, her hot breath against his face. 

"More Juggie." She moans directly in his ear, his jeans tightening even more around him than he thought possible. He pumps a finger into her, and then another and another, her breathing quickening and her moans becoming louder. She winces as he moves them deeper, but lifts her hips again anyways, pleading for even more.

He pulls his fingers from her, leaving her with an empty feeling, lifting his fingers to his mouth. She tastes so sweet and he can't help but crave for more. She takes his fingers, bringing them to her mouth, taking them between her lips, the taste of herself on her own tongue. He can feel his sanity slipping away as she wraps her lips around each of his fingers, looking at him through her lashes. 

He pushes her further against the headboard, sliding down further until his face is where not only he, but she wants it, straight between her pale thighs. She licks her bottom lip before biting down, looking at him with young, innocent eyes.

He watches her every emotion intently as he brings his lips to her, tongue savoring the sweet taste as he coaxed in between her thighs. She cries out almost immediately, biting down harder onto her lip, almost hard enough to break the skin. He repeats the action, this time slower, her fingers threading through his hair. His nails dig into her thighs, pulling her closer, wanting more, always wanting more. 

His tongue flicks over her clit methodically, her hands pushing his head against her even harder, her lips parting uncontrollably in soft whimpers. A shiver runs through her, the light scruff on his face tickling her thighs. Her nails dig into his scalp, her legs hanging over his shoulders as he moves his tongue faster, wanting her to let go. He stops for a second or two, demanding her to come under his tongue and not a minute later she complies with his pleas, her legs shaking and her lips trembling with profanities.

"Fuck!" She cried out looking down to him as her orgasm shook her, her eyes still shy and innocent. 

"I want you now." She pleaded, pulling him up to her, but he could tell she was a little uncertain.

"Just kiss me for awhile." He suggested to make her less uneasy, lips meeting hers roughly as he pushed her into the bed. She flipped him over, her legs on either side of him. He sat up, pulling her flush against his chest, his tongue running over hers, exploring every inch of her mouth that he already knew so well. He couldn't ever get bored of her cherry flavored mouth, ever. 

Her hips began to rock, a groan vibrated through his throat, his reaction making her giggle excitedly like a child.

They begin to undress, him watching her so carefully. He tells her it'll hurt, because it will, but that's okay. Because she trusts him and she wants him.

"I need you to tell me if you want me to stop." He's inside of her, it's painful for her, but she doesn't want to stop.

"No, no don't stop. You can move." She encourages him to go on and his hips begin to move slowly. She winces, she cries. It hurts, but it all gets better. A couple of minutes pass and she pleads him to go faster, claiming the pain has subsided. He hears her moan, and that's when he knows. 

"Fuck Juggie, harder." She moans and he lets out a sharp gasp, the pleasure already too much to handle. He places a kiss under her ear before doing as she says, moving into her harder. 

"Are you okay?" He asks as she winces, hips starting to slow, scared that he's hurt her.

"'More than okay. Oh f-fuck, don't slow down, keep going." She cries, leaning forward to bite into his shoulder. He looks to the door to make sure he remembered to lock it, thrusting deeper into the girl below him.

A door closes downstairs and he hears a shouted hello, signaling Alice was home. Betty wraps her legs around his waist letting him go deeper and he knows that he don't want to rush this, even if Alice is home. 

"I'm going to need you to be quiet for me, okay?" She nods, biting into his shoulder again, her fingers tugging at his hair. He hits her at one deep angle, deep enough to have her cry out uncontrollably. He covers her lips with his, swallowing her moans.

"Fuck Juggie, I'm-I'm gonna come, fuck." Nails digging into his back, clawing and scratching, hard enough to draw blood, air stinging the fresh wound, but he only works on driving into her harder. 

"Come, let go." He presses a long lasting kiss to the side of her neck, deciding he didn't care anymore how loud she calls out his name, because the way it sounded rolling off of her lips was enough to make his vision blur and his head spin. His hand moves between the both of them, finger rubbing lazy circles over her clit, making her cry out his name even louder and this time he doesn't stop her. 

She tightens and shakes around him and he comes inside of her, arms on either side of her to be sure he doesn't crush her fragile frame. They're sure at this point they love each other. No doubt.

And after the first time, they become insane with need.

It was quite simple actually, how they made love.

She wasn't screaming and yelling and thrashing the whole house awake, no. No, he knew that at 3:29, a minute before she opened his door and shut the rest of the world out behind them, she would pull the bed a few inches from the wall. To make sure that when together they rocked back and forth, slower, faster, then slower again and then just a little bit harder on that bed she's had since she was 10 years old, the headboard wouldn't slam against the wall, and doom their middle of the night secret.

But if it was however, one of those nights she needed more than what the 7 year old bed limited them with the creaking wood and the out of shape bed springs, if it was one of those nights she was in the mood to scream, and to yell, and to thrash the whole house awake, she would ask him to lay on the floor and she would climb on top of him. And with no creaking wood, no out of shape bed springs, she would fuck him, so much harder and so much faster until just maybe, he was the one wanting to scream.

And then when they were done, they'd fall back into her bed, markings of his mouth at her neck, at her breasts and her thighs, all over. 

\-----

It's a normal night at the Bijou when he tell her he loves her and she does the same. 

After they say they love each other they become sex crazed. They have to have each other, all the time, every minute of every day. He begins to pick her up from school so he can fuck her in the back seat of the truck, her skirt pushed up and his jeans pushed down. She'll ride him in the small, confined space till he comes inside of her and then they drive home.

They aren't good at being discreet. They'll leave the dinner table so he can fuck her, pushed up against just the other side of the wall of the dining room. He'll pull her into the bathroom during movie night and fuck her on the bathroom counter. She'll pull just the right clothes out of the way so she can fuck him on the couch while Alice leaves for a minute without getting caught. They'd been so desperate one night after coming home from a party that when they stumbled through the door and fall, he just fucks her right there on the floor while her parents are asleep upstairs. They'd been sex crazed. No doubt.

It's early one morning, Betty is in the bathroom covering up the markings he'd left last night. One knock at the door and she knows it's him, opening quickly to pull him inside. 

"Come here." She says turning to him once she notices the bruise she'd left on his skin, tube of concealer in hand.

"No. Uh uh. Don't put that on me." He backs away, hands up before she fists his t-shirt in one hand, forcing him forward. 

"Jug, just get your ass over here." She tells him and he finally listens to her. He always does. Smearing it all over his neck he begins to look down at her, eyes on hers.

"I never thought you'd do it." He laughed.

"Do what?" She asked him, tilting her head to the side slightly.

"Make me fall in love with you."


	14. games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet public smut. ;)

Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones were the talk of the town, the "it" couple. She was beautiful, he was handsome. Things were always interesting for them, especially in bed. Maybe it was because they loved each other so much, maybe it was because of the games they played.

He'd always ask her if she wanted to try something new. He'd ask her about what she dream of and whatever it was he would do it for her. He was giving in bed, he was a giving person in every aspect of life. But what she wanted now, what she was asking of him, he wasn't sure he could give.

"Juggie, please. It'd be a thrill." She's all smiles, green eyes wide and full of mischief, ready to tear the town apart. She wanted him to fuck her which he was obviously not protesting to, but she wanted him to fuck her, publicly. 

He was always a shy person, he kept to himself. All he's thinking of is if they would get caught and it's eating him alive. But when has he ever said no to her. She's looking at him with those pleading, puppy dog eyes and he gives in almost instantly.

"I guess-" He barely finishes before she's jumping into his lap, arms wrapped around his neck and fingers threading into his hair, lips pressing firmly to his. She smiles into his mouth, laughing as she stands quickly from the couch, pulling him with her.

"First off-"

"Do you have a checklist or something? How did you know I was going to say yes?" He cuts her off, grinning at her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Have you ever said no to me, Jones?"

\-----

The bell chimes as she pulls him through Pop's doors, one thing on her mind. He feels a little guilty, having known Pop almost all his life, now about to do his girlfriend in the stall. She has a sly smirk on his face as she pushed open the bathroom door. He mentally groans, noticing one of the stalls is occupied, but she doesn't seem to mind, pushing him into the last one, pushing the door and locking it closed. Leaning against the door she pulls him closer by the collar of his sweater, his hands on either side of her head as he presses his mouth to hers. At first she's in no rush, smiling into the kiss as she always does, but then his tongue slips into her mouth and meets with hers, driving her up the wall. His tongue is hot, wet just like the growing desire between her thighs as he groans into her mouth. She fists his thick knit sweater, her small hands running along his chest and down further, fingers playing with his belt. The door to the bathroom opens as someone walks in, another stall now occupied. They only continue, his thigh pressed in between her legs.

Her hips shift forward, pressing herself into his leg as her tongue runs along his. Their lips part with a wet pop as she looks down between them, pulling her dress up slightly and giving him a view of her nearly soaked white cotton underwear. He groans again, pressing his leg into her harder. At this point the bathroom has cleared out, thankfully because she begins to become a whimpering mess. However there is no promise someone won't return, scaring him and thrilling him all at once. 

She places her hands at his belt again, expertly and quickly unbuckling it, zipper undone as well in an instant. He replaces his leg between her thighs with his hand, fingers pushing her panties to the side, index finger slipping back and forth so easily.

"God-" He chokes on his own words, unable to breathe.

"-You're so fucking wet." She can only nod, her eyes shut tight as his finger continues sliding back and forth, every once and awhile pressing into her clit. Unexpectedly his finger slips into her, making her let out a pleasure spiked gasp. He pushes in knuckle deep, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head as he feels the way she clenches so tightly around just one finger, imagining what it'll feel like once he's buried inside of her.

"I can't-" He forgets about how he'd originally been so unsure, scared of being caught. Slowly he pulls his finger from her, quickly slipping it into his mouth, his other hand pushing her dress to rest on her hips. Her eyes open at the loss of his finger, about to protest before she realized he was in a rush to get to the point, pushing his jeans and boxers down slightly to rest on his hips. He presses her into the cool metal of the stall door, his hand pulling her thigh to rest on his hip. He's breathing heavily, forehead pressed to hers as he slips her underwear to the side again. He pushes halfway in, having to breathe before he pushes the rest of the way in, afraid the way she pulsed around him so tightly would cause him to pass out.

She lets out a desperate whine, palm pressed flat against his chest, hand turning into a fist as he jolts his hips forward.

"Fuck-" He moans directly in her ear. He'd been inside of her just this morning, but God, every time felt like the first. The door opens, heels clicking against the tile floor, the stall next the them opening and locking into place. Quickly he lifts her other leg to have it rest around his hip, both of her legs now locked behind him. He wishes he could stop, he really does, but fuck, its just too good. He can't bring himself to do it. Not when she is pulsing around him the way she is, or with the way shes looking at him like she is about to cry from the pleasure. His hand slides from hip, pressing a finger to her mouth in attempt to tell her to be quiet. She nods, pressing her face into his neck as he begins to move his hips again.

He pushes into her hard but slowly, holding the back of her head tightly as she clings to him. She tightens around him incredibly so, the thrill getting to her, hearing as another gathering of people enter the bathroom, talking, whispering, gossiping. Her head lifts slightly, biting his earlobe harshly.

"I'm gonna come-" She whispers into his now freshly wounded ear and he just nods into her shoulder, grunting lowly as he begins to jerk his hips against hers. She begins to shake in his arms, pulsing around him, him throbbing inside of her. And they both come, hard. His come sliding halfway down her leg as he pulls out of her, setting her on her feet. She quickly gathers it on her finger, her lips turned upward into a grin as she pushes her finger passed her lips. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, groaning. Fucking in public could be his thing he decides, pressing his mouth to hers.

\-----

She doesn't stop at Pop's. God no. It'd become a game, a 'Where can we fuck without getting caught' thrill seeking game. He fucks her at the Bijou, at school. When Veronica asks Betty about their sex life she tells them its sweet, but Jesus, its fucking anything but. 

"I want you to fuck me anywhere someone could be watching." She tells him, having him choke on air. But she meant it. And she proved she meant it when she climbs on top of him in his chair at the Bijou as his favorite horror moving is playing. When they're supposed to be in class and she pulls him into an abandoned class room and haves him fuck her right against the windowed door.

But the place she begs to have him next, he knows if God exists, he is fucking for sure going to hell. Polly had given birth just a month ago, the twins healthy and gorgeous. She plans on getting them baptized. It makes it worse this is the church her parents had gotten married in. Betty wish she had felt guilty, but she just didn't. Jughead made her nonstop crazy with need. When she needed him, she needed him and there wasn't any getting around it.

So far the ceremony had been beautiful. It was small, the family and a few friends. Betty had on a white dress. short and to Jughead's easy access and liking, Jughead wearing the only suit he owned. Betty had pulled Jughead to sit in an abandoned pew, the family just a row ahead. For anyone else it would have been easy to just sit tight for an hour without the intense need to fuck each other in a church, but Betty begins to kiss his neck and he's surprised he doesn't fuck her right there in front of everyone. He's almost surprised. Because she has other intentions. 

Her fingers quickly undo his belt and unzip the zipper. She sits herself on top of him, arm wrapped around his shoulder as she still faces forward. If anyone had looked it wouldn't have been suspicious, for no one would think they'd stoop as low as to fucking in a church. He's ready to protest, but she's already pulling her dress slightly, pushing him inside of her to which he realizes she hadn't been wearing any panties. He almost curses out loud, because God, is she fucking soaked.

"Betty-" His teeth grit together as she moves forward, grinding as hard as she can down on top of him, his face pressing into the back of her shoulder, cheek scratching against the fabric of her pale pink cardigan.

"-We're so fucking going to hell." He begins to breathe heavily, hand grabbing a fistful of her dress at her hips, pulling her back, pushing her forward and pulling her back over and over again. All it takes is for someone to just turn around and see the look on his face, eyes shut tight and brows furrowed as he's deep inside of her, pulsing insanely as she tightens around him. The thrill is killing them both, her hand flying over her mouth and letting out a strained gasp as he pushes his hips upward.

"Good." She begins to shake, her body begins to stiffen, all the tell tale signs that she's about to come and come hard. She tightens around him, practically milking him for all he's got. His hold on her tightens, nails digging into her skin as he comes inside of her, grunting in her ear.

She lifts her hips, feeling empty as he pulls out of her. And Jughead makes a note to never doubt what she wants ever again if its going to turn out this fucking good.


	15. car

Jughead Jones had grown up with barely any money for his family to pay the bills. So when he starts working, half of his paycheck every week goes toward saving for a car. Since one incident where he barely scraped his knee after falling off of his motorcyle Betty practically forbid him from riding it ever again, so a car it would have to be.

The car he buys is cheap, used, rusted. It would need some fixing for sure, but it was the first thing he could ever buy for himself and he was in love with it. 

Betty, his new found friend sighs in frustration after throwing open the car door. The air conditioning didn't run, the radio only made a soft buzzing noise and the car barely made it over the bump in the driveway. It would just slump back down onto the street again, the both of them, skin scorching in the summer heat would have to peel themselves off of the sticky leather seats and push it back up the driveway. They hadn't been close since this year, only ever being friends by association with Archie. Months before, having needed Archie to make sure things wouldn't be awkward. Today would prove a different story. 

"This car is total shit!" She cried, struggling to push it up over the pavement, Jughead turning his head to the side to hide the laugh he couldn't contain.

"Don't insult her. She just needs some fixing. You're helping." He cracked open the hood of the car, black smoke billowing out of it, practically choking them both.

"Yeah, well that can't be good." He muttered under his breath, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Betty stood, still dazed from the heat and unwanting to try and fix something already broken.

"What?"

"You heard me princess, you're helping." He pushed the hood open further, more smoke seeping out. Bolts were loose and everything was covered in a thick layer of ash. The heat of the sun was slowing down her train of thought, afraid she'd collapse of heat stroke, she unbuttons the top of her cardigan. He looks at her, sweat running down her chest, golden hair blowing in the soft breeze as she let her head back, letting the sun hit her flushed face as she groans. And the day only got progressively hotter, Jughead losing his shirt about a half hour in, ash smeared on his left cheek. Betty's cardigan was wrapped around her waist, her breast straining against the tight white tank top she had been wearing, her legs barely covered by her shorts. She leaned against the side of the car, handing him the tools he needed as he called out for them. Jughead had become beyond frustrated, nothing he was doing was going to work. He slammed the hood down, Betty opening her eyes and looking over his face, cheeks red from the sun.

"Maybe I can sell it." He groaned. He watches as she walks slowly over, converse dragging on the pavement until she's standing before him. She wraps her arms around his waist, cheek pressed to his sweat soaked chest, his thumbs hooking into the belt loops of her shorts. 

"Sorry, I know you loved this car."

His eyes flicker down to her chest as he pulls back slightly, unable to help as his mouth waters.

"Are you staring at me, Jones?" She teased, her finger pushing his head upward by his jaw, thumb running across his ash covered cheek.

"How rude Cooper. When have I ever-" She interrupts him with a laugh, bringing a smile to his lips.

"So, pick you up at 10?" She nods against his sweaty skin, green eyes on his before she stands on her toes to quickly press a kiss to his cheek.

\-----

"Where are you headed so late?" Alice's voice flows through the living room to the front door where Betty is standing, rocking on her heels back and forth nervously.

"Kevin's party with Jughead, I thought I mentioned it at dinner?" She pulls her purse over her shoulder, looking out the small front door window to see his truck out front.

"What time will you be back?" Alice looks to her from her spot on the couch, eyebrows raised.

"Not too late." She promises, one she won't keep. She steps out the door, headed toward a night that she doesn't know quite yet, but she'll never forget. Archie bails last minute because of the sickness Fred caught from one of the guys while working on construction. She wears that light blue sundress she looks so good in, him in that jean jacket he's never not wearing. He picks her up in front of her house around 10, not being able to help his lingering eyes looking over her miles of bare pale skin that the dress doesn't cover.

She climbs into the truck, smiling as she says a soft hello, her scent of honey and lilacs filling his nose. She leans over to press a kiss to his cheek, her lips pressing to the corner of his mouth instead. As she settles into the leather seat, the dress rises slightly, revealing more of her soft skin. He shakes his head at his teenage thoughts, starting the engine.

"I shouldn't have worn a dress. I feel overdressed." She's blushing, trying to pull it further down her legs.

"No, it's a nice dress. You look good in it." His response leaves her staring at him, smile widening.

"T-Thanks."

When they arrive Veronica is already there, buzzed on tequila and sitting in Cheryl's lap. She stands quickly, bottle of alcohol in hand and swaying as she walks over.

"You guys made it! Here." She pushes the bottle into Jughead's hands. He laughs at the raven haired girl slightly before taking a swig from the bottle, handing it over to Betty. She eyes the rim of the bottle for a moment, where his mouth had just touched. She decides not to give it a second thought, putting her lips to it and taking a sip. His arm rests around her waist, pulling her into his side. She looks to him for a moment, dark hair falling over his forehead, blue eyes full of humor as Veronica stumbles over herself, lips turned into a grin.

\-----

The music plays loud, the lights turned off as they drunkenly dance, stumbling over themselves. Betty's near him, hips dangerously close to his as she sways in time with the music, bottle of tequila in hand, a lit cigarette in his. The buzz he has gives him confidence, hand placed on her hip and pulling her closer, causing her laughter for fill his ears. His thigh is pressed in between her legs, the both of them giddy and high on each other, dancing to the beat. As her hips roll forward she wraps a hand around his neck, beginning to breathe heavily. Her eyes meet his and the intense need for each other begins to rise. As he takes a drag the smoke blows from his mouth to hers.

"So you can dance Jones?" She looks up to him, hips flush against his. 

"Only for you."

Veronica is beyond the point of intoxicated, laughing into Cheryl's shoulder as they dance beside them.

"Are they gonna fuck tonight?" Veronica smiles, watching her two friends sway together. Cheryl looks to her. 

"That's the plan, isn't it?" 

\----

It's not long before Cheryl is suggesting spin the bottle, half a bottle of tequila later. Jughead groans at the thought, taking his seat on the floor, Betty close by, bare thigh grazing his. 

"Betty, our blonde seductress, why don't you go first?" Cheryl places the empty bottle in the center of the wood floor, ignoring Betty's desperate pleas to please let someone else go. She sighs to herself, spinning the bottle, letting it land facing the none other than the one beside her, raven hair, jean jackets and all. She'd thought about kissing him, many times before. What his lips would feel like, what he would taste like. Guess she wouldn't have to wonder now. She mentally curses Cheryl as she moves to kneel and he does too, unsure, searching the emotion of her face, eyes asking if she had been sure. Hesitantly her lips press to his, hand flat against his cheek, his hand pressed firmly to her jaw and sliding down her throat. 

His mouth is warm against hers, tongue wet and hot. He tastes like tequila and nicotine. She finds herself wanting to lean in even further, give everything she has to him. Their lips part with a wet pop all too soon and he pulls back. She's buzzed, but she's sure that kissing him made her even more drunk, leaving her feeling dizzy. 

"There, happy?" He mumbles toward Cheryl. She's left feeling flustered, cheeks hot. She can't help but quickly stand to her feet, in a second out the front door, hand over her mouth where his lips had just been. It felt so good to kiss him and she almost feels guilty, having had a crush on Archie almost half her life. But she can't imagine kissing Archie being this good. He's a few steps behind her, calling out her name.

"Betts! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" She turns around, pulling him into her by a fistful of his jacket, lips on his again. His tongue is in her mouth almost instantly, hand pressing to her cheek and sliding down her neck. It should feel awkward, they've never hung out alone without Archie until recently, but it feels nothing but comfortable. She stumbles back slowly, back pressed against his car they had to push into the driveway. He groans into her mouth, pulling her hips closely and pressing against his. Her hips shift forward, moaning once his lips press to her jawline, teeth nipping gently and moving to scrape down the pulse of her neck. She's breathless at this point, desire between her legs growing quickly. He'd never thought he'd have the chance to be kissing her, let alone be on his way to fucking her against his car. Yet here he is. And he doesn't regret it in the least. She's a moaning mess, his lips bruising her skin, painting it purple and blue. Thigh pressed in between her legs, her hips begin to roll forward, head pounding not only from her buzz but because of the feeling of intense pleasure, kissing him, touching him. 

He presses his thigh harder between her legs, moving it up and down slowly, the material of his jeans scratching her clit through her thin, wet underwear. Quickly her fingers dig into his arm, unable to stand steadily as he continues to move. Hips jolting forward, wetness spreads between her legs as she listens to the groans vibrating through his throat. 

"Come." He demands, hands pulling her tightly against him, pulling her hips back and forth, clit still brushing against his jean clad thigh. A small and sweet gasp passes her lips, coming against him, both hands pressed to his chest. 

"Please-" She cries, head burying into his neck, begging for more. His index finger slips under her dress and dips into her panties, gathering her come on his finger, slightly grazing her sensitive clit as he pulls away, bringing his finger covered in her desire to his mouth. 

"Fuck." He groans, pulling his finger out of his mouth with an audible pop. She tastes sweet, just as he'd imagined. 

"Turn around." She does as he says, hearing as he unbuckles his belt, feeling as he slides her underwear to the side. He pushes inside of her, his knees buckling at the feeling. She's incredibly wet, warm, and so fucking tight. He pulls out completely, tip running along her clit before pushing all the way back in, roughly. The action leaves her resting all of her weight against the car, unable to stand, him having to forcefully hold her waist so she doesn't slide to the ground. He does it again and she nearly collapses, him pulling her up by her arm, holding her tight against him.

"God, I'm gonna kill you." She speaks through her teeth, her hand reaching back to pull his hips forward

"You're already half way there." He pushes in all the way, fucking her hard into the side of his car, lifting her left leg slightly to rest on the hood. She's whimpering like a hurt animal as he's as deep as he can get. He's sure someone would be able to hear inside, but it's so hard to care when she's pulsing around him the way she is, taking everything he's got as he comes inside of her. God it feels so good that he almost passes out, but he instead pulls out of her, quickly turning her back around and lifting her onto the hood of the car. He slides her panties down her legs, shoving them into the back pocket of jeans before thrusting into her again, deciding he'd use whatever little stamina he has left right here and on her. It's not long before she's feeling weak in his arms again, blood rushing and heart beating fast, stars behind her eyes.

"I'm-I'm gonna come again-" Tears are filling her eyes, the pleasure almost too much. She has a fistful of his hair, pulling him in closer and burying her face in the crook of his neck. The car shakes with their movements, his hips pushing into hers as they lift up desperately. Her pleas to let her come are filling his ears as he tells her not yet. A few more hard thrusts into her, hitting that spot inside of her and she just about loses it, coming under his command. 

"Do it, c'mon." His thumb is rubbing circles over her clit, fast as she keens against him, body flush against his. She nods, tightening around him incredibly, the feeling of him filling her up leaving her dizzy. She pulls her head from his neck, pressing her mouth to his, lips soft and tongue warm inside of his mouth. A strangled moan is let out into his mouth as he groans again. 

"C'mon." He grunts, thumb moving faster, making her shake uncontrollably. 

"Betty-" He comes inside of her for the second time tonight, and she feels in utter bliss, toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of her head. The feeling of him pulsing and throbbing inside of her is heavenly, evidence of him spilling out of her, the both of them a sweaty and panting mess in the summer nights heat. 

"God-" He moans, and she has to find the strength within her not to pull him in again just at the sound. His heart beats like thunder in his chest at the sight of her, green eyes wide and cheeks red, hair falling slightly over her eyes, legs still spread before him, wet in between her thighs as a result of him. It's driving him mad.

"Well-" He sucks in a sharp breath, pulling out of her, leaving her wincing, zipping his jeans back up. 

"-we definitely don't need Archie for that." She opens her eyes to see him walking toward the front door, her underwear peeking out of his back pocket and she doesn't mind one bit that she won't be getting them back.


	16. good girl

Betty Cooper had always been a good girl. She did well in school, she was a cheerleader, she was friends with the most popular girls in school. She was never late for curfew, she was in bed by 9:00 pm and she was most certainly a virgin. She knew the basics of sex, she knew how it worked, but she'd never let herself explore that kind of world. Jughead Jones had been the complete opposite, getting into trouble almost all his life. He got by with grades, he had a few friends that stuck with him, his dad was in jail and his mom had been out of state, he had no curfew. And he knew all about the world of pleasure. 

Betty Cooper groans at the thought of a new kid coming from the Southside. They meant nothing but trouble to her, her mother always teaching her to stay away from the kids from the wrong side of the tracks. However, the day Jughead Jones walks in through Riverdale High's doors, Veronica Lodge on his arm, he pays no attention to her. He doesn't wink at her like the other guys do, or make a crude comment about her cheerleading skirt. He barely looks at her for more than a second, Veronica pulling him around the corner. Veronica had been friends with him since the 4th grade. She wasn't popular, she wasn't a cheerleader or anything of that sort. She hardly knew Betty, only sharing a single class with the raven haired girl. 

She doesn't get a good look at him until Chemistry, sitting with Veronica at a lab table, smiling wide at something she must of said. His eyes are blue, hair raven like the girl next to him, leather jacket perfectly snug on his shoulders. A single curl falls over his forehead, his cheeks littered with birthmarks, his jawline perfectly sharp. He was good looking, no doubt. She was fine in her own little world, staring at the new bad boy, interrupted when the teacher suggests he sit with her because of her better understanding in the class. 'It would be easier to catch him up' The teacher nods, rearranging Veronica, now she knows is called 'Ronnie' by Jughead, to sit with her best friend, Cheryl Blossom. She mentally groans at the thought of the boy she was just staring down sitting next to her, a pink blush rising to her cheeks. She nods at the teachers demands, moving her bag to make room for him.

Once he sits next to her the scent of nicotine fills her nose and it's heavenly.

"I'm-"

"Elizabeth. I know. You're dating that Andrews kid." Her nose scrunches at the use of her full name.

"And you're Forsythe, from the Southside." He groans, followed by a nod. Only his father ever called him that. He knows from the start the rest of this year, next to her just might be hell.

\-----

The week goes by as most normal school weeks do. He'd grown accustomed to her overly happy attitude, blue and gold cheerleading outfit on nearly everyday, hair tied back so tightly he thinks it might hurt her head. They don't talk, only the occasional yes or no. The bell will ring and they won't see each other again until the next day comes.

\-----

The next week goes by slow, it being a Thursday when she doesn't show up. She hadn't planned on missing school. But her perfect life was nothing but a fraud. Some days are just too much to handle and today had been on of those days, her mother letting her stay in bed as her anxiety ate her alive. There's nothing to be done, some days like these happen. And so Friday, when she shows up, crescent marks in her palm and hair tied back in a loose bun, cardigan over her shoulders, he notices something about her.

"Hey, left me all alone with the work yesterday." He teases her, noticing she was off from her usual preppy attitude. She's too dazed, weak from no sleep to catch his tone.

"Sorry, don't worry about it today, I got it." She grabs the paper from him, the crescent shapes in her hands not going unnoticed by him. For some reason, barely knowing her, he swallows thickly, curious as to why her, such a perfect girl had to do such a thing. He can see now she isn't perfect, much more that she's far from it. 

The following Monday she's back to herself, well, the more sickly fake and happy version of herself. She does the work for the both of them and he notices the scars have started to dim and fade from her palms, finding himself hoping that they won't return. 

\-----

When he finds her having another one of her bad days, leaning against her locker, The Great Gatsby in hand, he grabs her, pulling her down the hallway.

"What're you doing?" She looks over his face, her green eyes wide. 

"Breaking you away from that good girl persona of yours." Her blood begins to rush at incredible speed through her veins, heart pumping as he pulls her out the front of Riverdale High's doors. His motorcycle is parked in it's usual spot as he throws his leg over it, gesturing for her to climb on.

"Lets go." He turns to her, smiling wide and blue eyes full of lust. 

"No helmets?" 

"No." He shakes his head, patting the seat behind him.

"Jug-"

"You'll live. C'mon." The ride is thrilling, wind blowing through her hair, the both of them a painted picture of black, blue and gold. And when the day is over, he drops her off at home, a kiss on the cheek to say goodnight. 

\-----

Veronica asks him later that night about why he was being so nice to her, why he'd taken the most popular and perfect girl in school out in the middle of the school day. To which the only thing he has to say is that she's not as perfect as she seems.

The next time he sees her, he convinces her to try her first cigarette. She figures why not, as she learned how good he looked with one between his lips, smoke billowing from his mouth with a blow. They're supposed to be in Chemistry, but worries of school are long behind as they sit outside, backs resting against the cool brick of the building, her golden hair falling in soft curls. She sits with her legs crossed, her cheerleading skirt on, while he sits her front of her, trying not to let his boyish intentions show, restraining himself from looking between her legs and at her white cotton panties. 

He takes the cigarette from between his lips, passing it into her unsure hands. She holds it between her fingers, bringing it to her mouth and pulling back. She practically coughs up a lung, leaving him laughing and near tears.

"Weak, Cooper." 

"Shut up!" She scrunches her nose, eyebrows knit together as she pouts. To spite him, she finished the rest of his cigarette, coughing less than when she first started. He can't help but look at her lips as she takes another drag, pouty, full and perfectly pink.

\-----

"Too good girl, Cooper." He'd been up in her bedroom, spread across her bed, eyes scanning over her loose fitting, pink dress. He'd planned on taking her out tonight, a club him and Veronica loved since learning she'd never tried alcohol before. Her room was nothing he'd thought it would be, her walls covered in posters of Nirvana and Green Day, his first guess was gonna be Taylor Swift when he walked through the door. 

Knowing more about her, he decides she's the type of girl he could spend time with, maybe for days on end and never get bored. She was funny, stubborn, snarky, nothing she seems she would be. He begins to think of her more than himself, seeing things that remind him of her, pointing out to himself things she would or wouldn't like. 

In front of him, she unexpectedly slides the dress down her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her underwear is virginally white with a small pink bow on either side of her hips, her bra is no doubt a match, a bow in the center. His heart gets caught in his throat, watching as she bends to pick up the dress, throwing it to her closet as she looks for something better, something darker. Her eyes land on the tight black dress Polly used to fit into, the one Betty would wear in the privacy of her bedroom when she wanted to feel good about herself. She steps in, pulling it over her hips. The dress is skin tight and he can't keep his eyes off of her. 

"Zip?" She questions, pushing her hair to the side. Quickly, he stands, doing as she asks, pulling her hair back in place to fall over her shoulders.

"Better?" She turns to him, eyebrows raised.

"Mhm hmm." He nods more than once, a laugh escaping her lips, reaching into his leather jacket and pulling out his box of cigarettes, lighting one and dragging a drag.

\-----

Her face twists in disgust at her first taste of tequila, leaving him again breathless with laughter. It's not long before she becomes accustomed to it, her throat still stinging after every shot, but the buzz making it worth while. The music is good, the lights are dimmed low, the bar is packed with drunk and dancing people. On the dance floor, their bodies flush against each other and the music blaring is the first time he kisses her, the first time she's kissed anyone. His tongue is warm, tasting of nicotine and his lips are soft. She's never felt more carefree in her life, in his arms and lips pressed to his.

She tells him later that night, that she had never kissed anyone before, not truly like he had kissed her. Even dating Archie, he had just used her for her image, and so she had never been kissed. He thinks it's sweet, almost sort of a turn on that she is utterly and completely his to ruin.

\-----

Betty Cooper, believe it or not, had never had any sort of sexual experience, never even touched herself when she felt the need. The thought of it made her uncomfortable, but for some reason, when she kissed him, an ache between her thighs would grow. 

Inside of his dads truck, late one night after promising Alice she had been staying at Cheryl's, they kissed in the front seat. She had been sat in his lap, one leg on his side, the other in between his legs as she straddled his thigh. Although wanting to live up to his image and go as fast as he could and fuck her till she couldn't see or breathe, he decided to take it slow with her. They kissed until their lips were numb and swollen, her fingers fisting his leather jackets, his hands on her hips and slipping under the top of her cheerleader uniform, touching her bare skin. Wanting to try to get her moving, he lifts his thigh in between her legs, a gasp passing her lips and into his mouth. 

"Here-" He pulls her hips forward, back and forward again, her clit scratching against the material of his jeans through her underwear. 

"What-What're you doing-" Her palm presses to his chest, her breathing starting to shallow.

"Just, trust me." He drags her hips forward again, feeling her warmth against his thigh, the way she's pulsing between her legs, his eyes shutting tightly. His eyes open immediately once he hears the sound she makes, a silent whimper passing her lips, her breath hitting his face.

"Feel good?" She begins to move on her own, hips rocking back and forth. A few seconds pass and she begins to move faster, wrapping both arms around his neck, still fisting his jacket as she buries her face into his neck. 

"Y-yeah." She nods against him, his hands pressing into her back to keep her moving. 

"Just-just let yourself go." He encourages her, her wetness seeping through her underwear and staining his jeans. She nods again, a tightening feeling starting to coil up in her belly, her heart like thunder in her chest. She finally lets go, shaking in his arms, a moan filling his ears and leaving him breathless. 

"Not so bad, huh?" She pulls back from his neck, her hold on his jacket loosening, her lips opened as she's panting. She shakes her head shyly, making him laugh, pressing a kiss to the side of her forehead. 

\-----

His truck becomes a place of many firsts for her, a place where he touches her through her underwear for the first time, and then a first time without, a first time he slips a finger inside of her, a first time that he has at least three curling inside of her. He falls in the love with the way she falls apart, perched in his lap. The way her face scrunches together and her lips part, panting, moaning, whimpering. The way she looks shyly into his eyes with a smile after she's come undone under his hand for the third or fourth time that night. He never gets tired of making her come, again and again and again. 

After curling his fingers inside of her beyond the amount he can count on one hand, he lifts them to his mouth and licks her desire off of them one by one. He'd never done that before, having it be the first time he tastes her, the sweet taste of strawberries and cream between her thighs. Her nose scrunches up as she watches him do so.

"Why'd you do that?" She asks, innocent as to why he would do such a thing.

"I wanted to see what you taste like." He replies simply, dipping his fingers back into her underwear, gathering her wetness on his fingers. She shakes at the feeling, sensitive as his finger brushes over her clit. He brings them to her mouth.

"Open-"

"What?"

"You heard me, c'mon." Her eyes lock with his, hesitantly opening her mouth as he slips his fingers past her lips, the taste of herself on her tongue. A groan vibrates lowly through his throat at the feeling of her tongue against his skin, pulling his fingers out of her mouth and leaning forward to mix his tongue with hers.

\-----

"I wanna taste you." He tells her one night, again in his truck, pulled a few houses down from hers, breathing heavy and pressed against one another in the reclined seat.

"You have before." She reminds him, gasping as his fingers continue to move underneath her skirt.

"No-" He's not sure how to explain it, deciding instead he'll show her. He slides further down the seat till he's kneeling on the floor of the car, her innocent eyes watching in wonder. Underwear in the back pocket of his jeans, he pushes her skirt up, ducking his head in between her thighs. She doesn't understand what he's trying to do until his tongue swipes across her clit, leaving her gasping for air again. He does it again, again, again and again. 

"Oh my god-" Her hand slams to the roof of the car, the other curling into his raven hair as his tongue pushes inside of her, curling up slowly. 

"Good?" He asks, voice vibrating through her and shaking her to the core. 

"G-good." She nods, eyes shut tight at the feeling of his tongue. His nose hits her clit as his tongue curls inside of her, having her coming within another minute. He savors the taste of her, sweet on his tongue as she comes for the god knows what time tonight. 

\-----

"Can we have sex?" She's desperate one night after coming under his touch many times again.

"Oh-"

"-Betts, I don't know." He's unsure, not wanting to rush her. 

"Why not?"

"That's something I need you to be one hundred percent sure about."

"I am sure, Juggie." She nods, pressing a kiss to his temple in reassurance. 

"Okay, I believe you. I'd rather not have your first time be in my truck though."

"My parents aren't home."

"I don't want you to walk into this expecting it to be perfect. I'm not gonna tell you it won't hurt, cause it will. We're just gonna go slow, okay?" She knows it won't perfect, no music playing and candles lit while having her expected first time with Archie, but she can't imagine losing her virginity any other way. She nods, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, practically dragging him out of the truck and into her house, the both of them almost tripping over themselves as they run up the stairs. Their kisses are sloppy, teeth, tongues and silent moans. Pressed into her bed he climbs carefully on top of her, pulling her skirt down her legs.

"Lets start with what we know, yeah?" His hand is between her thighs, fingers pushing inside of her, curling upward as they have many times before. She hardly had a chance to nod, moaning as his fingers begin to move just a little bit faster. She grabs at his wrist, stopping his movements as she looks up to him desperately.

"I really want you inside me, Juggie."

"Y-yeah. Okay." He nods slowly, eyeing her as she unbuckles his belt, him lifting her arms and pulling her top off after she's done so. He throws his shirt to the side to land on the floor with hers, shortly after sliding his jeans down his legs, boxers following after them. She eyes him quickly, wondering how she'll be able to take him inside of her. Her bra hitting the rest of the pile of clothes, she begins to grow nervous to which he can tell.

"Hey, we don't have to-"

"I don't wanna stop." He nods, trusting her, resting between her thighs. It's almost hard to push into her, she's wet, but God, she is so fucking tight. She winces at the feeling, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed together. It hurts, rightfully so seeming as she's not accustomed to it, but not as much as she'd been expecting. It's uncomfortable, but it's definitely bearable. He pushes the rest of the way in, really fighting to spur of the moment just thrust into her as hard and fast as he can. However, he waits, waits until she gives the okay to move, to give the okay to move faster, move harder, go deeper. Minutes pass and the pain subsides, her begging him to go faster and faster and when he does, it's the first time he hears her curse, followed by his name.

"Fuck, Juggie." He swears it's the hottest thing he's ever heard besides the strangled moan she makes when she comes around his fingers. Her legs wrap around his waist, letting him in even deeper, the sensation pulsing between her thighs, growing thicker and heavier, nerves sparking down the backs of her legs.

"Juggie-" She cries

"-I'm-I'm gonna come."

"Do it baby, c'mon." He encourages, his arm sliding up her thigh to curl around her hip, his other hand sliding down his own stomach to where he's buried inside her, his fingertips seeking and finding with an accuracy that has her gasping and arching her back. She comes, hard around him, shaking uncontrollably. Just at the sight of her, mouth open and eyes shut tight, he comes inside of her, his own mouth opening in a loud moan. She's tight as it is, but she tightened even more around him, taking everything he has. He pulls out of her, out of breath as he collapses next to her, arm still wrapped around her hip. 

"I love you, Cooper."

"I love you, Jones."


	17. locked in

Betty Cooper was in charge of most things at Riverdale High, so when another Riverdale dance comes up, to keep up with her good girl persona, she's no doubt on decoration duty. Jughead, unable to stray from her for more than a few hours decides to be not a help, but more so company as she scurries around the student lounge, his feet kicked up as she's organizing the boxes around the room. She was still snug in her cheerleading uniform, hair falling in loose curls after she had pulled it out of her ponytail in frustration. Her eyebrows are knit together in concentration, her lip between her teeth. His laughter fills her ears as she almost trips over a string of lights on the floor, catching her fall on the armrest of the couch.   
  
"Jug this isn't funny. I need to get this done." She groans, throwing her hands up in frustration. His laughter dies down, being replaced by hers as she's pulled down by her waist, body pressed firmly against his. His whispers tell her not to worry, face buried in the crook of her neck, lips pressed to her warm and faded bruised skin. Her shirt of her uniform rises slightly, exposing the pale skin of her stomach to which he uses to his advantage, fingertips tickling over her, leaving her breathless and teary eyed with giggles. Pressed onto her back now, sinking into the couch he holds her tight, breathing in the scent that is entirely Betty Cooper. There were endless ways to describe Betty Cooper. Miles of pale, soft skin, the scent of honey, the taste of strawberries in her mouth and between her thighs. She was heavenly. And she was completely his. Warning him again that she has to get to work, he just holds her tighter, fingers playing with the edge of her blue and gold skirt, twisting the fabric before reaching under to touch her delicate skin.   
  
"Jug-" Her breath hitches in a failed attempt to sound stern and demanding. His fingers reaching higher, the protest on her lips dies, his breath now hitching as he realizes what she had been missing underneath her skirt.   
  
" _Christ_ -"   
  
"-You aren’t wearing any-" He swallows thickly as she nods. She'd already been _so fucking wet_ , his finger easily slipping in knuckle deep, curling upward, thumb circling her clit. A cry fills his ears just before the jostling of the handle to the lounge door does, his hand quickly removed from under her skirt, the both of them sitting up quickly.   
  
"Did you lock the door?" Jughead's voice is hushed to a whisper, eyes on the door, whoever on the other side not being able to get in.   
  
"No. Did you?" Her fingers dig into his arm, the footsteps disappearing down the hallway.   
  
"I wouldn't be asking you." She lets go of his arm as he rises to his feet, hand on the door knob and turning it left and right.   
  
"Betts-"   
  
"Its stuck."   
  
" _Great_." She huffs out, back hitting the couch again. The dance was tomorrow and all the decorations were in the room, now stuck and locked with them. There had been no cell service in the room, which meant they wouldn't be leaving this room for hours, when Veronica or Archie wouldn't be busy making eyes at each other to come looking for them. He drags himself back the couch, throwing his beanie beside him as he curled himself up next to her.   
  
"The hell are we gonna do?" Betty's eyes are filled with worry, eyes on his as he runs his fingers through his raven hair, pulling the curl that fell over his forehead and letting it snap back into place. He lets out a breath before ducking his head down to hers, lips pressed to the corner of her mouth, inching closer to her lips.   
  
"Jug-" She laughs, his hand on her hip and hitching her leg over him, silencing her with a kiss.    
  
"You got a better idea?" His response has her laughing again, falling against his shoulder.   
  
"You're such a typical teenage boy."    
  
"And you're a typical teenage girl." His finger dips below her skirt again, in between her thighs, soaked with desire. Even no longer a virgin and having come undone under the hand of Jughead Jones more times than she can count on both hands and toes, Betty Cooper was still fairly innocent, unknowing of many of the pleasures Jughead could show her.   
  
His back pressed to the couch, her perched in his lap and box of decorations to the side long forgotten, they kissed, lips full, swollen and numb. Her hair fell in waves around her face instead of her usual tight ponytail, his jacket loose on her shoulders over her uniform. His hands were heating up her skin, running from her legs up to her hips and holding tightly. She'd grown comfortable with what she now knew, rocking her hips forward on his lap as she has many times before. His dark hair is a mess of waves thanks to her hands, his neck littered purple and blue for when she bites him as she comes hard under his touch.    
  
"We’ve got all the time in the world." He manages to breath out, loss of air getting to his lungs as she dragged herself over his lap back and forth again. She nods, shyly burying her face into his neck as she makes no motion to stop herself.    
  
"Juggie-" She desperately cries, picking up her hips and dropping them back down onto him. She loved getting off this way, straddling him and riding his thighs until she fell apart in his arms. His hands slide back down her waist, sliding underneath her short skirt. He groans to himself, looking down to the stains she'd left on his jeans.    
  
"You're _so fucking wet_." He gathers her on his finger, bringing it to her lips, watching as she sucks his finger into her mouth, hot tongue touching his skin.    
  
"Thought it might make things easier.” She pulls his finger back with an audible pop, smiling innocently and looking down, a blush rising to her cheeks as his fingertips run along her skin, digging into her hip where her underwear should, but doesn’t rest.   
  
"It definitely does." He laughs at her ability to be as cute as she is in situations like this. Betty Cooper was the cutest thing, confusing his senses, he didn't know if he wanted to hug or fuck her till she couldn't breathe. Her thighs begging to ache as she moves her hips again, another finger slipping into her knuckle deep. She moans, whispering that she loves him. Both it would have to be. His fingers curls upward, coaxing at that spot inside of her, his lips pressed to her temple in a feather light kiss as she continued to rock.    
  
"Juggie-” When his fingers pull away from her, her eyes open instantly, hips still. He’s looking at her darkly, eyes between her legs, his fingers trailing her wetness on the inside of her thigh. He still couldn’t believe it was him, him who did this to her, him who got her this wet and coming within a matter of minutes, him who just last week had been inside of her, fucking her hard like she begged him to. Memories of what she told him swirl around his head, how she’d never been kissed before him, how she’d never been touched, how she had never touched herself. The idea makes his head spin, the intense need to watch her come under her own hand fills him completely.   
  
“I want you to touch yourself.” His demand leaves her at loss for words.   
  
“Juggie, I-”   
  
“ _Please._ ” He pulls her hand downward, letting it rest between her thighs. She freezes, she doesn’t know what to do, how to act, how to feel.   
  
“Like I do it, start here.” He puts two of her fingers up, placing them to press nearly inside of her, placing her thumb to press into her clit. She shudders at the feeling, eyes where his are, right between her legs. He encourages her to move with silent pleas, eyes glued between her thighs as her fingers slip inside of her, a sharp gasp passing her lips. It’s not nearly as good as his hand, God, no. But it’s still good nonetheless, her moans filling his ears. He’s unbearably hard at this point, watching as her eyes close, her back arches, the way her fingers begin to move faster, the way she’s practically _dripping_ onto his jeans. He can’t help it, his mouth watering and heart pounding, it’s his second favorite thing apart from making her come himself.   
  
“Come, Betty. Please, I need to see you come.” She nods vigorously, fingers still moving, hips still rocking, becoming even wetter at his desperate tone. He can’t help himself, he loses all control, pushing her on her back, head between her thighs within seconds. God, she’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen and he needs to taste her now, he needs her to come now. His tongue is gathering everything she’s left behind desperately, her hips lifting against his hot tongue and soft lips.    
  
“I need you in me-” She's breathless, holding him close to her, fingers threaded in his hair.   
  
“Why, tell me why Betty.” He looks up to her, licking his lips.    
  
“I need you, I-” She pulls him up by a fistful of his hair.   
  
“- _I’m so wet_ , Juggie. Just, _please_.” He wants to be gentle with her, he wants her to have the whole music playing and candle lit experience. But then she says _that_ and it all flies out the window.    
  
“God, I'm gonna fuck you till you can't see, till you can't breathe or stand."   
  
“Y-yes, _please_."   
  
" _Shit_ -" She curses, his blood pumping ten times faster at the sound of it. She's on her knees, legs either side of his as he pulls at his zipper desperately, tapping himself against her clit, dragging back and forth. She slides against him, knees buckling and arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He feels her, soaked and slick in desire, practically slipping him inside of her with little to no movement. She hisses as he pulls back, eyes opening at the lack of contact, darkness in her once light eyes. She swats his hand away from in between them, lip between her teeth in concentration as she places him in between her legs, sinking down so easily. He's deeper this way, it almost hurts, but _fuck_ , she loves it so god damn much. His finger slides over her clit, the pad of his thumb pressing with increasing pressure.    
  
"Don't, I'll come." She had a hold on his wrist, not wanting to let go too soon.   
  
"We have all night. Multiple orgasms, you've got the advantage." He's smug, a shit eating grin on his face as he rubs her in circles, hips pushing upward. Her jaw drops, her eyes close, her fingers dig into her palms and she's coming. She's coming with him having only been in her for a few minutes. She can't take it, it's too much. But he doesn't stop moving, ignoring her sensitivity, hand firmly around her neck and holding his forehead against hers.    
  
"Fuck me." He groans, demanding demanding and desperate, head hitting the back of the couch as he throws it back, her palms pressed to his chest as she rocks her hips forward. She grows to be as desperate as he is, rocking faster, faster, faster. She grasps his jacket in her hands, moans uncontrolled and loud, begging him to fuck her, to please just fuck her hard. And he will, as hard as he can. Not until she comes again. He plans to have her shaking by the end of it, to have her unable to walk.    
  
"You feel so deep like this, Juggie." She's on the verge of pleasure induced tears as he nods, mouth open as he moans at her words.   
  
"Touch yourself-" Seeing it only once and he's in love with it, he needs to see her do it again.    
  
"- _Christ, please,_ just-" His teeth grit together.    
  
"-Betts."    
  
"I'm gonna come again." He nods, blue eyes opening at the sound of her cries, watching as he hand is between her legs and she rocks back and forth. And she does, as he does too. She falls off of him and to his side, skirt falling back into place, chest rising and falling.   
  
"I'm gonna need a minute-" He's breathless, jeans stained because of her, curls sticking to his forehead, a thin sheen of sweat over his skin and hers. He can't help but look at her, chest heaving, lips in a pout, hair falling over her green eyes, legs parted and wet between her thighs. She's so fucking beautiful. Her lips turn upward slightly as her fingers trail around the wetness between her thighs, lips open in a gasp.   
  
"There's so much." She bites her lip between her teeth, her eyes locking with his innocently.    
  
"I want you to do it again." The softness of her voice leaves him groaning, unable to deny her anything as he climbs on top of her.    
  
"You're going to kill me." The lock of her legs around his waist push him forward, him halfway inside of her already, having her cry out loudly.    
  
"That's the plan." She grins, smug like he had been before, interrupting herself with another moan, wide eyed and gasping for air.   
  
\-----   
  
"How many now?" He turns to her. She's dazed, evidence of him practically filling her completely.   
  
"Five."   
  
" _Five times_? God." He throws his head back.    
  
"And going for six." She smiles, a groan filling her ears as she rolls back on top of him.    
  
\-----   
  
He'd come inside of her so many times, having her shaking and crying, legs aching and back arching in her now practically ruined uniform. They don't leave the couch, she's on top of him, he's on top of her, he's bending her over, fucking her in every which way. And when hours pass, Archie slamming his body against the lounge door, remembering where they should have been, Betty moves to stand, failing miserably, a smile on Jughead's face as she practically collapses in his arms.    



	18. jealousy

It was her sanctuary. Where she washed the day away from her skin. Where everything was bare, warm, safe. She’ll think, she’ll cry, she’ll sing her favorite song. She awakes to find no peace of mind, shedding the thin sheet from her mostly bare body, barefoot as she tiptoes to the bathroom, the boy, miles of olive toned skin, mess of raven hair and blue eyes shut left behind in bed. Creaking the door open his t-shirt she’d been wearing hits the cold tile floor, her underwear still on the floor of his bedroom along with everything else she’d been wearing last night. The practically scorching water hits her back, stinging the fresh bruises he’d left on her hips, the bites he’d left between her thighs. Her eyes close at the feeling, her brain trying to catch up to her racing thoughts. Her head leans back, letting the spray of water hit her head, droplets of water sliding down her face and dripping from her perfectly pouted lips.

 

“Baby-” His voice is rasped, hoarse, back of his hand rubbing his eyes, boxers hugging his hips. Her eyes flutter open at the sound, blonde hair slicked back now, shifting her weight on her feet as she pulls back the glass door to meet his tired eyes. Dazed, half asleep and breath hitched at the sight of her, he lets her tug his boxers to his feet, pulling him under the water, practically stumbling over himself. She holds him close, cheek pressed to his chest. He’s warm, skin almost as hot as the water. And it comforts her, a soft hum passing her lips. She finds herself running her hands along his warm skin, fingertips running across the crescent shaped wounds she’d left on his back, a hiss escaping his lips at the touch. She doesn’t feel guilty, she knows he doesn’t mind. He could take the pain and she could too.

 

“What were you doing?” He knew she must of been lost in thought. She had’t been crying. He hadn’t woken up to the chilling sound of her voice. She was thinking.

 

“Showering.” 

 

“Funny.” He quips back, eyes rolling.

 

“Thinking.” She sighs, his index finger pushing lightly under her chin.

 

“You think too much. Pretty soon you’ll start getting ideas and-”

 

“Funny.” She mocks him, same tone of voice and humor in her big green eyes.

 

“Take my mind off of it.”

 

His fingertips skim slightly over the bruised skin of her hips, head tucking into the space between her neck and shoulder, lips pressed there gently. She sighs, content and at ease in his arms, letting herself rest in his hands. His mess of hair tickles her cheek, her mouth turning slightly upward in a hazy grin, her hold around his waist tightening. She wants to just stay here for hours, maybe forever. 

Her pulse begins to quicken when his lips press more firmly, sucking her skin in between them, the flesh turning red. His hands slide down her hips and press into the back of her thighs, lifting her in one swift movement, her back pressed to the cool glass of the shower door, shocking her hot skin. She feels the beating of her heart throughout her entire body, her head, between her thighs. He doesn't push inside of her, he doesn't plan on it yet, lips pressing to hers with such force her lips ache. He tells her he loves her first, that's she's doing so well as a single finger runs along the faded crescent shapes on her palm, that he can't wait to spend forever with her. She nods at all of it, kissing him with just as much force to compensate for her lack of words. And then he pushes inside of her, the softest and sweetest cry filling his ears.

 

The feeling of him inside of her is familiar, it's safe and it's warm and it's everything she loves. She opens her eyes to see his closed, his lip caught between his teeth. Her thumb slides across his cheek, past each freckle, each birth mark and scar, her lips opening now in short pants as he continues to move. She makes note of how beautiful he looks, like this, when he's making love to her. 

The push and pull of his hips begin to quicken, just as her heart does. It's starting to beat so fast she's afraid it'll explode from her chest. She's incredibly tight around him and tightening even more as the minutes pass, moans filling her ears as she's pulsing between her thighs. Lips pressed to lips and tongues mixed together, she doesn't recall ever feeling this at ease in her life, under the water and with him. And he's close, telling her that he loves her, he loves her, he loves her, he loves her, repeating it like a mantra, words broken apart and interrupted by her soft cries for him. They were so, so in love.

 

And its obvious. To everyone. Veronica and Archie take a seat in the booth, the two of them totally oblivious, obsessed and in love. Their hair is wet, they both look a total in love and uncaring mess, Jughead’s hat is upon her blonde curls and they both of them smell of that french vanilla body wash she uses. He’s laughing, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth and she’d smiling against the rim of his coffee mug placed in her hands. She’s got jelly in the corner of her mouth that he wipes away with his thumb.

 

“Sexy.” He jokes, her laughter filling his ears, her hat falling over her eyes as Archie clears his throat.

 

“You two so had sex this morning.” Veronica’s lack of people skills and intrusive personality shows, Jughead swallowing thickly and Betty coughing out. Archie’s eyes avoid all contact as Betty bursts into a fit of giggles, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Jughead catches it, eyebrows furrowed together, his least favorite emotion coming into play. Jealousy. 

 

\-----

 

It begins to bother him even more, the way he watches her. He laughs at everything she says, smiles when she looks at him. He doesn’t understand how the message hasn’t gotten across to his so called best friend. Her lips were swollen from his kisses everyday, her neck was bruised from his bites. He’d told him before he was in love with her. What else would he have to do? Fuck her on the table in front of him?

 

She knows him. More than she knows herself. And she can tell its bothering him because she notices the way Archie stares at her too. And she’s never not been honest with him. So that next morning, under the warm spray of the water she tells him the truth.

 

“This is as vulnerable as I’ve ever been and ever will be in front of someone.” Her eyes are glazed over, scars of the past decade on her palms being touched and healed by his fingertips.

 

“This is where I come to think. And I let you in here, with me.”

 

“Last time I checked, Archie didn’t get that. Or this.” Her lips press gently to his and he hums against her mouth.

 

“Or this-” She’s on her knees in the blink of an eye, his breath hitched in his throat as her mouth closes around him. The sight of it fills him with such incredible and strong need that he’s never felt before in his life, pulling her to her feet by a fistful of her hair before he even has the chance to finish. He lifts her leg and pushes inside of her. It’s fast, needy, primal, raw. He’s surprised the two of them don’t shake the two tons of the trailer. She’s crying out so loudly that the whole town just might hear, that his ears begin to ring. Just their third time and he feels like he knows every inch of her body, head to toe. He begins to understand why she feel so at ease here, the water hitting his back as he pushes her against the glass door. He plans on taking her back to his childhood bedroom, where everything is warm and a mess of sheets and pillows, but instead sliding open the door he has her back pressed against the small bathroom counter, and that’ll have to do. His eyes flutter open, meeting his own in the mirror. And he wants her to see to, to see the way he fucks her, the way that she is utterly and only his.

 

Wincing as he pulls out of her she’s turned around, bent over the counter, leg raised. He’s inside of her within seconds again, her eyes locked with his in the reflection. She looks a perfect mess, hair falling over her eyes and falling further with each push forward of his hips.

 

“You’re mine.” He groans with another push forward, a soft whimper passing her lips. God, jealousy looks good on him.

 

“I’m yours.” She cries out, knees buckling and legs shaking as she lets herself go, the feeling of him coming inside of her leaving her dizzy.

 

“Promise.” He chokes out through a moan.

 

“I promise.” She’d be his forever.

 

\-----

 

He’s hers, she’s his. And Archie still doesn’t get it. It bothers her, and she plans on making a show of it, neck painted purple and blue more than usual with no means to hide it. It's morning, Betty sitting across from Archie, waiting for Veronica and Jughead to show. She makes a whole ordeal of being tired when he makes note of it, smiling as she explains how late Jughead kept her up last night. His nose scrunches at the idea of it. 

 

Jughead walks in, jacket snug on his shoulders and raven hair tucked under his beanie, sliding in next to his girlfriend, greeting her with a kiss. To which her response is to kiss him deeper, hold him tighter and pull his closer. Their lips part with an audible pop, Jughead smiling against the corner of her mouth. 

 

“You guys gonna have sex in front of me too?” His tone is cold, eyes narrowed. 

 

“What is your problem?” Betty bites back, her hand slamming to the table. 

 

“Might as well! You're eyeing her like you want to see her naked anyways.” Jughead hardly pulls away from her, arm still tight around her waist.

 

“I have before-”

 

“What, when you were four? Doubt she was moaning your name like she is mine-” He's smug, watching as Archie's face twists in disgust.

 

“Stop! C'mon let’s go-” Betty presses her palm to his shoulder. 

 

“Try not to fuck each other on the way out-” He mumbles under his breath, Jughead stopping in his tracks. 

 

“Okay you know what-” He grabs a fistful of his shirt, jerking him against the booth. 

 

“-It's called being in love. Might wanna try that instead of fucking everything that walks.” He pulls her out the door, one place to get to on his mind.

 

\-----

 

“Juggie?”

 

“C’mon-” He already has her through Archie’s bedroom door, kicking his shoes to the side. The ultimate payback in mind, to fuck his girlfriend in his best friend’s bed. It’s twisted and it wouldn’t be happening if he wasn’t so fueled on rage and jealousy, but he can’t stop himself. He undressed her within seconds, pushing her back onto the bed, her head thrown back in laughter as her elbows crush into the mattress. Pushing inside of her, he fucks her as hard as he ever has. She's moaning, smile on her face before her lips open in a pleasure spiked shout, the wood of the bed hitting the wall. 

 

She feels hardly guilty, fucking her boyfriend in her best friends bed. In fact it turns her on, more than it should. But she can't help but grow increasingly wet between her thighs, lifting her hips from the mattress as he fucks her harder, holds her tighter. His hands slide from her waist to her thighs, fingers digging into her pale skin.

 

“Come in me-” She's desperate, calling out to him.

 

“Betty-”

 

“Please.” She whines. And so he does, hard, eyes closed tightly. And when they collapse and redress, she makes sure to leave her underwear on the bed as perfect evidence.

 

\-----

 

“You guys fucked...on his bed?” Cheryl's tone is full of surprise, her arm wrapped around Veronica.

 

“Yup.” Jughead nods. 

 

“Insane.” Veronica nods, eyes blown wide.

 

“Screw us over and we’ll fuck on yours.”


	19. heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but hopefully sweet. Enjoy. ;)

He’s so used to being buried inside of her with a barrier in between skin and flesh. He’s so used not coming inside of her even though they both so badly need and want it. And so, when she suggests she goes on birth control, you can imagine the intense excitement, the intense need to just feel her. Just the conversation had his head spinning, that she was so tired of longing to feel him come inside of her, to feel the way he could completely and utterly just fill her of him. She wanted skin touching skin. She wanted to feel bare, raw. She’s desperate. She can hardly wait, beyond frustrated when she learns that she has to, for at least a week if the birth control was going to be effective. And they probably could and should have just gone on as they have, just use a condom. But Saturday night when they’re both aroused beyond belief because she’s wearing that tight blue skirt she looks so good in and his chest is bare, they just can’t help it. It’s hot, the air conditioning was broken and the both of them are in such incredible need.

 

It all starts when the air conditioning finally breaks, the both of them spread out on the living room floor, half naked with Hotdog panting next to them. She wore her tight blue skirt, bra uncomfortable on her skin, shirt discarded to the side. His shirt lay on top of hers, creating a small pile, nothing but jeans hugging his waist. They were chewing on ice, too dazed from the heat to hold a conversation. He holds the cup of ice to his forehead, hoping for some form of relief from this heat. It strikes him to try something else, long fingers dipping into the cup, pulling out a piece to hold against her sweaty skin. It shocks her, shivers running through her body as he drags it across her arm. 

 

A gasp passes her lips as he starts at her belly button, circling it before dragging it upward, the ice chilling her sweaty skin. It melts slowly, trailing water in it’s path as he continues, further, further. Her chest begins to rise and fall quickly, her hips shifting and rising from the floor. The ice completely disappears between the heat of his fingers and the heat of her skin, her eyes on his, watching as he shifts himself lower. His tongue peeks out of his mouth, circling her belly button, going up, up and up, following the trail.

 

Her hands quickly move behind her back, unclasping her bra and sliding it down her arms, letting it hit the pile of clothes. His breath hitches at the sight, the urge to have her skin in his mouth even stronger. His teeth scrape over her breast gently, lips closing around her nipple, her lips opening in a gasp. Her nipple between his lips, she feels like she is going to cry, like she’s going to fall in a pleasure induced heart attack. 

 

Her fingers thread through his hair, eyes closed tightly as his tongue continues to move before snapping open at the loss, watching as he moves lower again. Her skirt is pushed up, his mouth watering at the sight, bare between her thighs. Another piece of ice between his fingertips he lets it drip on her thighs, the droplets of water running down and quickly caught by his tongue. She's left squirming, a gasping mess. His finger, cold from the ice slips inside of her, easily going in knuckle deep, curling upward. Coaxing inside of her, she nearly comes on the spot, eyes locked with his, his lips open and panting, entirely captivated by how fucking soaked she is for him. 

 

“Just a few more days-” He reminds her, watching as her hips lift from the carpet with need, desire between her legs growing by the minute. 

 

“I can’t wait a few more days.” She sounds incredibly needy and she doesn't care, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. 

 

“We can do other things-” His finger curls further, her eyes glued to the ceiling as she moans loudly. 

 

“The other things aren’t good enough-” She tugs on his wrist again, eyes on his as she pulls his hand away from her. 

 

“-I need you in me, I just-” She's desperate, pulling him upward by his shoulders to rest on top of her, undoing his belt within a matter of seconds. He's hesitant at first, but then she's pulling him out of his boxers and her hand is moving up and down and he can't think or speak. 

 

“-I need you to fuck me, please.” He nods, unable to worry about what the consequences might be, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pushes inside of her. She's so fucking wet, warm and pulling him in, utterly and almost unbearably tight around him. He can't help himself from driving into her like he wants to hurt her, so incredibly hard and fast. The feeling of it is too fucking good, skin on skin, nothing in between. 

 

The rate at which he's going leaves her unable to breathe, panting and uncontrollably calling out his name like she doesn't know any other word. His fingers dig firmly into her thighs, holding her tight against him. Her cries become louder and louder, almost deafening him. The heels of her feet dig into him, holding him into a grasp he couldn't escape even if he wanted to. His thumb presses to her cheek, insisting she opens her eyes, and she does, meeting with his before looking further down, watching as he disappears into her, as he fucks her as fast and hard as he ever as. His lips are parted, gasping, moaning, practically breathless. Sweat coats their skin, his fingers fisting the carpet beneath them, managing to ground himself and fuck her even harder.

 

His face buries into her neck, eyes shut tight, trying to restrain himself from screaming at the feeling of her tighten around him. She's still crying his name, hips lifted and held so tightly against his. God, he's never fucked her this hard, she's afraid she'll ache in the morning, that she won't be able to walk. Her legs begin to burn, hips tired as she continues to push and pull with his, but she can't stop, she has to keep going. 

 

He's surprised they don't shake the trailer in it's place with the rate they'd moved against each other, the both of them so desperate and dazed by the heat to find some sort of release. There was no rhythm now, he was just fucking her raw. Fucking her till her ears were ringing and eyes were rolling. 

 

“I-I’m gonna come-” He chokes out, lips pressed to her neck, ready to pull his hips back, to pull away from her.

 

“Don’t pull out-” Her hands hold desperately on his hips, pushing him to keep moving as she keeps lifting herself against him. 

 

“-Betty-” He almost cries out, knowing he wouldn't be holding on for more than a few seconds longer, eyes shut tight as she continue to hold him in place, moving her hips sinfully upward. 

 

“Juggie please-” Her legs lock tighter around him and she's pulsing insanely between her thighs, he's seconds away from letting go. 

 

“-Just do it in me.” She whines, thumb pressed to his cheek.

 

“Betts-” Why was he even contemplating it. He was stronger than her, it'd be so easy to just pull away and tell her no. But, when has he ever said no to her. 

 

“-Knowing our luck, I’d-” They had terrible luck, all their lives. One time and for sure he'd wind up getting her pregnant, he swore on it. 

 

“Get me pregnant then-” The words leave her mouth and he almost chokes, eyes opening and locking with hers.

 

“-Just, come in me. Please.” He nods. He can't say no to her. He just can't. And so he lets go, he comes inside of her, hard. He fills her up entirely as she tightens around him, pulsing and taking everything he's got. 

 

“Shit-” She cries, nails digging into his hips, her body shaking, holding him close as his body jolts against her.

 

“-Oh god, yes.” Her eyes rolls back again, her mouth open at the intensity of the feeling. She can never go back now, knowing what it was like, the feeling of him coming in her and making her utterly his.

 

“Shit.” He groans, collapsing on top of her, face pressed into between her neck and shoulder, panting. He hardly had the strength to pull out her, her having to roll them over so she can climb off of him. His eyes open, glued between her legs as he's practically spilling out of her. Just a few minutes pass and her legs slide over his as she's hovering over him. 

 

“Please, you have to do it again-”

 

“God, Betty this is so dangerous.” He groans.

 

“I don't care.”

 

“It's my new favorite feeling.” Her lips curve into a smile, pushing him inside of her. She sinks down, easily, the evidence of the both of them still between her thighs. She rides him, from start to finish. Again. And then again. Till he can’t take it anymore, till he’s got nothing left to give.


	20. routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 69 cause why not

 

He finds her, desperate and rambling to some girl in their shared photography class about how she needed a place to live. New York wasn’t cheap, not even in the small two bedroom apartment he’d had. He's more than willing to help, he couldn't pay the bills himself after Archie had left, and the company of a beautiful blonde couldn't be so bad. She loved New York City, the sound of the people late at night, the buses passing by. Having a roommate had to have been the only down fall, but there was no way she could afford the place on her own, so it would have to do. He was nice, he didn't really speak to her, but she could tell he was a good guy in the sense that he wouldn't murder her since she did find him on Craigslist. He was a writer, he came home late most nights, coffee in one hand and computer in the other, sometimes his glasses perched on his nose. Dinner was usually Chinese takeout, both of them retreating to their rooms to sit by themselves where they'd spend the rest of the night. It worked, staying out of each other’s way.

  
It's the ordinary routine, he'll come home and she's already in her room. Maybe some nights he'll see her in passing to the bathroom, but it's not out of the ordinary to never see her at all in a day. She doesn't do much in her room, maybe flips through her photography, journal her uneventful day.

 

However, after a bad day, out of routine for the both of them, she cuddles herself in the blankets on the couch, box of Chinese in hand and reruns of Friends playing in the background, enough room for him next to her which he gladly takes. The sight of her caused an indescribable feeling, that he couldn't leave her alone like she was. That he needed to be there with her, keep her company.

  
It then becomes the new routine. Now not because she's had a bad day, but because she enjoys his company. Maybe it's the small jokes he makes, or the way he smiles at her when she lets out a laugh. Maybe it's because he doesn't judge her, after telling him about her past, or because of the way her nails have left crescent shapes in the skin of her palms. He doesn't pity her, which she whole heartedly admires. She doesn't need him to pity her, she doesn't need anyone to.

  
And he begins to tell her about himself too. His sister, his father, his mother, the way he used to live and what about that life that continues to haunt him till this day. She begins to feel like she knows him.  
  
\-----  
  
The richest girl in New York just happens to be her best friend, and she's obnoxious, loud, always over and raiding Betty's stash of wine. It's the typical Saturday night, Jughead is working late, Betty and Veronica half naked, drunk and dancing in the living room. Betty's tank top hugs her chest, her underwear hugging her waist as she sways back and forth to the music, bottle of wine in hand. She feels the music run through her, her hair falling around her face as she jumps up and down, the breeze coming through the cracked window shocking her sweaty skin. Her heart almost stops, rising in her throat as he opens the apartment door.

  
His glasses rest on the bridge of his nose, his laptop in one hand and faint smile on his lips. A soft chuckle escapes him, growing louder as he looks over her embarrassed face , cheeks stained pink and lip between her teeth. Veronica is beyond wasted, still dancing, carefree unlike the girl beside her. She shifts her weight on her feet, fingers twisting together in front of her, eyes on his as he sets his laptop down on the coffee table, rests his hands on her hips and pulls her along to the beat of the song.

  
She grows to be comfortable in her own skin, Chinese take out in hand again, shirt on and pants off as she's cuddled up on the couch, awaiting his arrival after a long day of work. A few more minutes pass and his legs are tucked under hers, having her rest comfortably on his lap, ears perked up as she listens about what he's been working on. He's shy about what he writes like he is about most things. Now most of what he writes has become about her. He doesn't plan on letting her know, not just yet. He'll write about her, golden blonde hair and big green eyes. Soft skin and long pale legs. Pink lips, flushed cheeks, the crescents in her hands.  She was inspiring.  
  
\-----  
  
"A-Alice called-" She's sobbing, blood running down her hands dripping to the wooden floor. He'd barely gotten through the door, dropping his bag to his feet, unable to worry about the fragile laptop inside at the sight of her. He swallows thickly, nodding, walking toward her and holding the undersides of her hands.

  
He runs the bath, pulling her t-shirt over her sulking head and hunched shoulders, pushing her underwear down her pale legs. He sits at the edge of the tub, and washes her hands, leaving the water pink. _It's part of the new routine_. Him running a bath for her, now not because her mother calls and she's beyond upset and in hysterics, but because it's relaxing, and he'll sit there with her till she's done. Her head leans back against the cool tile, sinking into her chin in the warm water. His finger dips in, creating ripples, swirling around where her knee pokes out, grazing the skin softly. She hums at the feeling, eyes closed.

  
"Can you come in too?" She’s shy, eyes fluttering open as she looks up to him. He seems hesitant, but her finger slides along his arm and up further to twist into the hem of his white t-shirt she'd been wearing just a few days ago and he nearly loses all control at the sensation of just one of her fingers against his skin. He nods, because he can't and has never said no to her. She feels instantly at ease, she needs him to be close to her and to comfort her and to hold her. T-shirt slid over his head and jeans and boxers discarded he steps in behind her, sliding his back down the tile wall, easing into the water. The heat of the water shocks his skin, chills running through him as she wraps his arms around her, her back pressing into his chest. Having a roommate wasn't so bad.

  
No longer than a few months and they'd already grown closer than people have within years. Her bed becomes cold, empty, his bed now fitting two. She feels safe with him, warm. She can't imagine now not falling asleep in his t-shirt, wrapped in his sheets and his arms. She can't imagine now not watching as he falls asleep, boyish grin on his face as she whispers what she'll make him for lunch to take to work tomorrow, fingers threading through the curls falling over his forehead. She can't imagine now not being half naked and warm and safe with anyone else but him, talking through all hours of the night. She just can't. He hums, fingertips lightly grazing the bare skin of her hips until she falls asleep. He can't imagine not being with her either, coming home to find her topless and underwear hugging her waist, bouncing on her toes, golden hair swirling as she dances along to the music playing through the apartment. She'll run full force at him and jump till her legs wrap around him, bare chest pressed against him as she asks how work had gone. He can't imagine not having this intense need for another person. He just can't.  
  
\-----  
  
Wrapped in the sheets, half naked at three am, she can feel the ache between her legs. She feels slightly uncomfortable. She’d always been in her own room when she had to take care of something like this. His arm is stretched over stomach, hand resting right over where she aches, fingertips touching the bare skin of her thighs. She needs some sort of relief, and she could touch herself but she'd have to move his arm, and although a heavy sleeper she's afraid he'd wake. Her hips shift uncomfortably, eyes attached to his hand, his state of deep sleeping making it dead weight. Shifting again, the weight of his hand creates not enough pressure, but good enough friction. She's half asleep, tired and so turned on and all she needs is to come, because god she hadn't been touched in so long. So her hips rise upward again, her breathing starting to shallow, parting her legs, his hand falling further.

  
He starts to turn, eyes unopened but hearing the shallowness of her breath, his hand feeling the warmth of in between her legs. His eyes flutter open, going unnoticed by her that he'd awaken, until his fingers curl, hand cupping in between her thighs. She gasps, his index finger pressing inward, and _god_ , he can feel it, _how wet she is_ through the material of her underwear, _how fucking soaked she is_. He rubs her through her panties, faster, with more pressure and she swears this could all be a dream. Neither of them speak, he just lays there, touching her and she just lays there and lets him. And after shaking under his touch, he doesn't ask her why, or what'd she'd been doing when he woke up, he just turns over and falls back asleep.

  
Things don't change. They don't talk about it. Nothing is awkward, nothing is uncomfortable, they feel even closer. And he'll proceed to get her off when she's awake at three am and in need. _It's the new routine_. She starts wanting to do the same for him. She notices the way he grows uncomfortably hard after she's come under his hand, and she feels the urge to relieve him of it. She'd come already, and he's almost half asleep when she works up the courage to reach her hand into his boxers, causing his eyes to open in shock. She wraps her small hand around him, holding firmly and beginning to move up and down slowly. His reaction gets her moving faster, lip between her teeth as his breathing shallows. He's getting closer and closer, unable to think straight as her head ducks down under the sheets, taking him quickly into her mouth as he comes, letting it hit the back of her throat. She swallows thickly, dazed grin on her face as she pulls back up, ignoring the confused look on his face as she rolls back over to fall asleep.  
  
\-----  
  
It's Veronica birthday and Betty Cooper in that blue dress was one of the most heavenly things he had ever seen. It hugged her hips, held tightly on her chest, the straps resting on her shoulders. She'd looked absolutely stunning, blonde curls falling gently around her face, lips painted a deep red that she'd be sure to stain him with. When she asks him to dance he doesn't say no, holding her in his arms as the slow song plays, the feeling of her softly exhaling against his neck. Innocent, wide eyes look up to his, telling him she loves him and he can't help but press his mouth to hers, lips stained with a red sheen. Her lipstick continues to smudge as his tongue presses into her mouth, hand sliding down her waist. He wants to fuck her somewhere quickly, hidden, raw and passionate, but part of him wants to take it slow, have her coming till her legs give out and her knees are buckling.

  
"I wanna go home, Juggie-" She purrs in his ear, their lips pulling apart with an audible pop, mouths wet and a mess of red. He’d touched her so many times, yet he had never kissed her before tonight and it’s his new favorite feeling. All he can do is nod and wonder if they'll even be able to make it home with how impatient he is. Her fingers secure around his blue, dress matching tie, giving it a light tug in desperation.

  
"Can't I just fuck you in the coat closet?" His nose presses into her cheek, nuzzling as a groan vibrates through his throat.

  
"Then I can't scream, Juggie. And I wanna-" She’s loud he’s come to learn. At first she hadn’t been, but then she’d grown more comfortable as the nights passed and she would be screaming, whining, a crying mess. Was their friendship fucked up? Yes. They bathed together, they touched each other and did everything in between with each other. Were they in love with each other? Yeah, probably, but they didn’t know it yet.

  
"The music is loud enough-" He’s so fucking desperate for her.

  
"Juggie." She stern, head tilted down as she looks up to him through her lashes.

  
"But, Betts-"

  
"Home, Juggie."  
  
\-----  
  
Pushed against the hard door, his hand fumbles behind her, twisting the knob in place until it unlocks. His foot slams the door closed. Walking backward into the apartment his foot hits the bump in the carpet in front of the door, sending them both to the floor with her flat against his chest. Her knees crush hard into the wood, desperately scooting upward as he pulls her by her thighs, dress pushed up to her hips. Another shift forward of her hips and either leg rests aside of his face, thighs cradling his head and held by his fingertips as his lips press through the material of her thin underwear. His tongue presses, his nails digging into her hot skin, her hips rolling forward at the feeling.

  
"Juggie-" Teeth mix in with his tongue, nipping her underwear with his teeth before pushing them to the side with his tongue. Her thighs clench around his head, his tongue swiping against her again and again, curling upward against her clit. His fingers dig harder into her skin, having never been more desperate in his life to have her come. It’d been a few days only since he first touched her, and yet he already knows where to pay most attention, where to touch her to get her coming within seconds.

  
"Shit!” Her hands slam down onto the wood floor above his head, fingers curling into her palms. She can’t help that her hips roll forward, creating more friction against his tongue. His tongue slips inside of her and her hips are moving even faster, her fingers now threading through his hair, pushing his head down to thump against the hard wood. She turns her body, his face still in between her thighs as her fingers tug at his buckle until it’s loose, pulling down his zipper. His nails dig into the backs of her thighs as she lowers her head down, taking him in her mouth all at once. He lifts his head from the floor, tongue curling into her yet again. With the rate her mouth is moving, how tight her lips are closed around him, all he can do is moan against her, sending vibrations through her. She feels them run through her, causing her to do the same and moan in return. His tongue curling upward in turn with him groaning against her has her coming in minutes, her moans caught in the back of her throat have him let go just as she does. She pulls back with an audible pop as the back of his head hits the floor again, the both of them breathless.

 

“Now we don’t have to take turns, I guess.” His comment leaves her more breathless than she’d already been, with laughter.

 

“You tired?” His head cocks to the side, watching as she turns slowly, crawling to rest her head against his chest.

 

“No. You?” She looks up to him, his thumb brushing away an eyelash on her cheek.

 

“Nuh uh.” She catches his lip between her teeth, pulling back with a playful snap. He grins, rolling her over onto the wood. He’s so impatient he can’t imagine taking the extra few seconds to pull her panties down her legs, just hooking his fingers into them to push them to the side. He pushes into her with a single roll of his hips forward, fully sheathed inside of her. She cries out, eyes narrowing but refusing to close, glued to his.

“Isn’t so bad having a roommate, is it?” His lips curve into a smile before opening, moaning.

 

“Shut the fuck up Juggie-” Her laughter fills his ears, immediately replaced by her cries as his hips pick up the pace. Her blood is rising to boiling temperatures, her skin is completely scorched when he touches her, her hips bruising as his hands hold her tightly there. He’s rocking in and out of her and all she can do it repeat his name, chant for him to go harder, faster, deeper, to completely fuck her brainless, senseless.

 

“Juggie-” Her nails dig into his shoulders, her eyes finally closing tightly.

 

“-Juggie, I’m gonna come.” He nods, face buried between her shoulder and neck.

 

“Do you want me to pull out?”

  
“No,-I, no, please-” She can’t get her words out, already tightening around him and taking all he’s got as his hips drop. Her hands grab desperately at his hips, holding him flush against her as he comes. _Fucking on the floor would be their new favorite routine._


	21. darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a little of knife/gun play. Short, hopefully sweet. Love you guys, enjoy!

Darkness suits him. It suits her even more. She watches him with hooded eyes every morning when he climbs out of bed, the sheets falling off of his bare and bruised skin. Watching him redress is another worldly vision, the way he tugs his jeans up his legs, pulls his shirt over his toned stomach. But the jacket, he'd put that on last. And it made her starving with desire, even if he'd spent the last few hours fucking her raw. He'd learned to be so much rougher with her, she liked it, she wanted it. She wanted him to choke her, bruise her, fuck her like he fucking hated her. He liked darkness on her. _Oh, he liked it._ __  
  
He lets her wear the jacket, especially when he's fucking her. Because it swallows her small frame and she looks so fucking hot wrapped in something entirely his while he fills her up and rocks her back and forth into oblivion. She was all his. Coming inside of her every night made sure of it. And he can't help the possessive feeling he has over her, but she doesn't mind it. She likes it. She lets him etch a crown into the pale skin of her left hip with his pocket knife. She lets him suck a heart shaped bruise on the inside of her right thigh. She lets him come in her till she's spilling out on the sheets. _God, she was completely and undeniably his._ __  
  
They barely remember the way they used to be. Movie nights at the Bijou, soft kisses and a gentle caress on the cheek. When she'd wear her cardigans and he'd wear a flannel in jeans. They hardly remember it, so clouded by the way they are now. It's summer, and she hadn't been home in weeks. She stays, wrapped in the sheets of his childhood bedroom as she waits for him to come back through the door. The Serpents got him at least a few hours a day, and then the rest of the time he was hers. She stays in one of his t-shirts most days and nothing else for his easy access. Just through the door, not even home for a minute and he's fucking her over the counter top. His nails bite into her skin when he fucks her hard like this, crescents marking her skin and blood staining his fingertips. She cries out when he does so, because _God_ , the pleasure mixed with the pain is _so fucking good._ __  
  
A few months prior if they'd seem this now they wouldn't recognize themselves. The way her pale skin mixes in contrast against his dark clothes, his jeans resting lowly on his hips, just the right things unbuckled, unzipped. She's wearing one of his ratty old S t-shirts, bare from the waist down so he can slip into her easily with no time wasted. She's crying out, whimpering like a wounded animal cause he's fucking her that hard, holding her that tight. It flashes before his eyes, the good kid he used to be, the way he'd hesitantly lean in every time before he'd kiss her. The way he'd gently hold her face in his hands and always asked before touching. The image leaves as quickly as it came, because he's not like that anymore. It's not like she wants him to be anyway. Their first time wasn't missionary with candles lit and music playing, no. He'd fucked her on the very kitchen counter he'd been fucking her on now. He has her wearing the bare minimum at all times so he can fuck whenever he wants. The both of them get off on just how dark they can get.  
  
"Baby-" Her lips are raw from biting them, her legs are sore. All she wants is to come and she can feel it building up inside of her. His pocket knife flicks open, the cool blade pressing into the back of her shoulder. A silent string of profanities passes her lips as it carves into her skin.  
  
_-J-_ , She can feel it, the way it moves across her skin, making out the letters as he goes.  
  
_-O-N-E-S-_  
  
"Mine." He growls, thumb brushing against the blood that seeps from the shallow etching in her skin.  
  
"Yours."  
  
\-----  
  
She loves when he comes in her, she begs for it. It makes him not want to do it that much more. He'll pull out, leave her wanting, desperate. She'll whine like she's been hurt, causing him to grin a shit eating grin. He'll pull out, let go all over the patchy and scarred skin where he'd etched in the crown. She'll pout like a child.  
  
He comes home the next day, gun in hand, one of the Serpents must of have gotten him one. She feels thrilled, although she should be scared, the thing was loaded. When she leans in to kiss him hello the barrel of the gun grazes the skin of her thigh, his hand moving to drag it slightly under the ratty t-shirt she looked so good in, pressing the cool metal into her scarred skin. His shirt swallows her frame, her socks are bunched at her ankles, and she's wearing nothing else. She hisses as the barrel of the gun presses harder.  
  
" _Juggie_ -” His name flows like honey off of her lips, it leaves him dizzy. Her thumb presses into the side of his face, dragging down over his jawline.

  
"-I need you to come in me, I'm-." She doesn’t ask about the gun like he’d been expecting her to. She’s been thinking about it all day, touching herself and staining his childhood bedroom sheets.  
  
"Desperate doesn't begin to cover it." His lips find the corner of her mouth, feeling as they turn into a small pout.  
  
"Fuck you." She hisses, shuffling her way into the living room, leaving him with lips turned up into a grin, right on her heel and following behind her.  
  
"That's the plan isn't in." Gun in one hand, he uses the other to wrap his fingers around her wrist, pulling her into him.  
  
His thighs hit the back of the couch, his hand crushing into the cushion as she pushes on his chest. Gun in his hand, her fingertips run along the cool metal, her fingers wrapping around the handle, his unwrapping, watching as she lightly drags it up against his front. The barrel of the gun rests under his chin, his breath quickening as she presses it into his skin, causing him to swallow thickly. One hand occupied with the gun, the other pushes quickly between them, her fingers fumbling with his belt and pulling down the zipper. Slipping past his boxers, her small hand grips him tightly, causing his teeth to grind together.  
  
"You have to come in me." Her voice is threaded with complete desperation and desire.  
  
"I could easily flip you over." He wouldn’t, he just need to see her desperate for him, nothing got him off more than knowing she needed him.  
  
"Then I'd shoot you in the fucking leg." Her eyes narrow, then close altogether when she sinks on top of him. Her hips drop, knees weak at the feeling of him filling every inch of her. He groans, eyes rolled back and head thrown against the couch, no choice but to look up at the ceiling with the gun pressed under his chin. He wants to look down, he wants to see the delicious way he fucks her, how her wetness pulling him in further at every second, how he just utterly disappears into her until the point of no return. His hand pulls at the gun, moving it till it presses against his forehead, his head shifting to look downward.  
  
"You're _so fucking wet_ , B-" His thumb slides over where he's buried inside of her, sliding over her clit, pressing into it like he wants to hurt her. She whines, eyes opening and looking down to where his eyes are, resting dead center where she has him rocking in and out. All she can do is nod, gun sliding from his forehead, both arms wrapping tightly around his neck, holding tight till his breath begins to shallow even more. She wants to take all he's got and more, tightening around him, rolling her hips forward till she has him on the brink.  
  
" _pleasepleaseplease_ -" Her words mesh together, eyes shut tight and thighs clenching, holding him between them. He nods in return, both hands threading through her hair, tugging roughly until the blonde is staring up at the ceiling, lips swollen and red from the bite of her teeth, her neck covered in faded bruises and he wants to leave more, new ones. Pushing his hips upward has her moaning, but he leans forward, teeth scratching into her pulse and she begins to cry out even louder. Arms wrapped around him, he feels the barrel of the gun pressed into the back of his neck, his blood pumping faster than he thought possible, his adrenaline sky high. She comes before he does and he isn’t surprised when she doesn’t stop, ignoring her own sensitivity and rocking even faster on top of him. He watches as her skin reddens under his teeth, watching as it compliments the blues and purples he’s already painted on her skin with his lips earlier this morning.

After countless times of not giving her what she wants, leaving her desperate and building her up till she almost breaks he finally comes in her, hard. Fingers outstretched and toes curling until they almost crack, he comes in her. Her hold tightens on him, he almost can’t breathe, but he doesn’t mind it. Almost dying is worth the look on her face right now, the way she cries out for him to just fucking fill her up completely. God, he’s practically spilling out of her, and it is the most delicious thing her eyes have ever seen once his fingers unthread from her golden hair, eyes looking down. A hushed and breathless, _finally_ , leaves her lips. He laughs lightly at her reaction, then pouting once she winces as he pulls out of her slowly, his thumb sliding over the marking on her skin that made her completely and utterly his. 


	22. trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff fluff fluff and smut  
> this is literally a fucking mess of a oneshot of them being cute and domestic and deciding to try and have a baby.

The summer heat leaves sweat coating his olive toned skin, white tank top practically shear, jeans rolled up to his ankles as he works barefoot, moving around the boxes packed three feet high. She’s tearing open boxes, shorts short and hair tied back, away from her face and into a bun, hairs fraying in every direction. Despite the heat, the weight of the poorly packed boxes and their now cleared out bank accounts, the smile never falls from their faces. Twenty one and newlywed, having left behind their small town they once called home, they for once in their lives felt at ease. Sure, she made a whole big deal about how he half hazardly packed the boxes, how he dropped one on the way out of the elevator once it stopped on their floor, to which he fixed with a kiss on the cheek, his fingers digging into her sides and tickling over her skin.

 

“ _Juggie_!” She squeals out, her hands pushing at his as they wrap around her front, skimming over her ticklish stomach. His smile grows, from behind her nuzzling his face into her neck, no where near minding the sheen of sweat covering her skin, for he must of been the same. His fingertip runs quickly over the ring on her finger, smiling growing even wider. Nothing was planned. It was the courthouse on a Wednesday evening, FP came, Alice didn't approve. Ronnie cried and Archie shed a tear, to which he'll never admit. It was everything it was expected to be.

 

“Christen the new house?” His lips press softly to her neck, she can feel the flutter in her stomach, the same she'd felt when he'd first kissed her, the same she'll always feel.

 

“Technically apartment-” Her eyes gleam with humor, smile as wide as his.

 

“You're a smart ass.” Her bare feet pad across the wood floor as she goes running, laughter filling his ears with him quick to follow.

 

\-----

 

The bedframe hadn’t been taken out of the U-Haul yet, their mattress resting on the floor in the middle of the small bedroom, the both of them wrapped in the sheets from the waist down. Her head is tilted up toward the ceiling, completely sated after filling her desire of him. His head rests in his hand as he’s turned on his side, breathing uneven, mesmerized at the sight of her.

 

“You love me.” It's not a question. It's more of statement. And it baffles him.

 

“I would hope so, I married you.” And he’s so glad that he did. That for the rest of his once miserable life, he gets to spend it with her, to grow old with her, to have children with her, to do the stupid, romantic, couple like things they gag at Veronica and Archie for doing. His finger runs over her bare shoulder, dipping below the sheets.

 

“You _really_ love me.” Her head turns, wide, green eyes on his.

 

“Why do you keep saying that?” His eyes narrow, pulling her closely.

 

“Have you seen yourself?” A blush rises to her cheeks. No, he hadn’t been popular in high school, and yes, the only girl he’d ever slept with was her. But nothing changed the fact of how undeniably handsome he was. How blue his eyes were, how sharp his jaw had been, the perfect structure of his face, the curl of his hair, the way his lips looked full, the way his lips felt soft.

 

“Have _you_ seen yourself?” He pushes her backward, rolling onto her gently, hand gently caressing the side of her face. Her eyes flutter closed as his lips press to the tip of her nose, her heart clenching at the gestures he has and still continues to make.

 

“I’m making coffee, don’t do anything fun without me.” Her fingertip grazes slightly against his abdomen, lip between her teeth, pushing him to roll off of her, a groan filling her ears as he thumps back onto the bed. His shirt pulled over her shoulders, she pads into the kitchen.

 

\-----

 

“I do not!” Her laughter floods the room, head resting against the end of the couch, his head resting on the other, their legs tangled together and Chinese takeout boxes scattered on the floor. Her finger rubs under her nose in her usually nervous like habit as he makes fun of her.

 

“You do, babe-” She shakes her head and pouts, his hand grabbing desperately at hers as she pulls away in a child like manner.

 

“Do I really snore?” The pout doesn’t leave her lips, his own turning into a frown.

 

“It’s alright, I think it’s cute.” He pulls her back into him, her legs sliding over his.

 

“ _Cute_?” Her fingers thread into his hair, eyes on his as she presses her chest against his.

 

“Yeah, you’re adorable.” She can’t help the heat that rises to her face, burying herself into his neck, smile prominent on her lips. After all these years, he still made her blush like she was a highschool girl.

 

“What about if I do this…” She can’t help but ruin the innocent moment with the way the material of his jean feel pressed between her thighs. Her husband was good looking, and she was already getting used to being alone with him all hours of the day, no nagging parents, no prying friends, no need for clothes. Her hips roll forward, her attempt to be sexy falling through when all she can do is fall limp against him at the small contact.

 

“So...not…sexy-” Her words are broken. He thinks otherwise, swallowing thickly at the sight of her above him, his hands grasping desperately at her waist.

 

“I highly disagree.”

 

\-----

 

He wakes to a sloppy, wet kiss pressed to his cheek, another pressed to the other side of his face, to his chin, his nose, the corner of his mouth.

 

“Juggie? Juggie!” Her legs hold him in tightly as she rests above him, bouncing excitedly and rocking the mattress.

 

“What-” His eyes open slowly, voice hoarse and dragging on his words at the rude, albeit cute awakening.

 

“Fine, I can eat the pancakes alone.” She senses his usual groggy, morning mood, untangling herself from him, to which he pulls her back down just as quickly, her head thumping against the bed.

 

“I could eat _you_ instead.” The shit eating grin rises on his lips, her eyes widening in shock.

 

“Jughead!” She scolds him, his full name is rare when it comes to her. His head throws back in laughter, rolling off of her as he disappears behind the door and into the kitchen.

 

\-----

 

“Betts-” Through the door not only for a second and she can sense his horrible mood, she can see the paleness of his skin, the bloodshot color of his eyes. He’d fallen sick, most likely caught it from someone at work. She’d never taken care of him while he was sick before. When dating, he refused to see her if he was, but now married, living together, he couldn’t avoid it.

 

“Oh, you poor thing.” She rushes quickly to him, back of her hand pressed to his forehead, feeling his rising temperature. Her instincts turn in, pleading him to rest on the couch to which he begs her to quarantine him, he didn’t want to get her sick.

 

“I’ll be fine, Juggie.” She hushes him, pulling his boots off his feet once his head hits the couch.

 

“Soup? Tea? Soup and tea? Both is good right? I’ll make both.” Her rambling never fails to amuse him, and even in his sickened state, a laugh shakes through him. She coddles him like he’s a child, feeding him by the spoonful, wrapping him with blankets and plying him with tissues, cuddling up to him extra close when tucked in bed.

 

“Betts, if I get you sick-” He’s meant to sound demanding, his hoarse voice stopping him from doing so.

 

“Then I’ll be sick.” She nods at the obvious, uncaring at the idea of catching his sickness, her warm feet running against the chilled skin of his legs.

 

\-----

 

Movie night with the Jones’ usually ends up with them asleep 10 minutes in, popcorn scattered across them and the couch as her soft snores fill the room. However, tonight he lets her put on Beauty and the Beast, and her eyes don't stop tearing at every other scene.

 

“Betty, babe. I know this movie makes you emotional, but why are you crying at this scene right now?” Music fills their ears, people are dancing across the screen. She looks to him, lip quivering.

 

“My period.” He frowns at her dramatic outburst as tears begin to fall over, rushing her quickly into his lap. As most would've run screaming, he'd been the greatest in situations like this, making the run for tampons, cuddling her close, buying her anything and everything.

 

“Oh, c’mere.” His fingers press gently into her stomach, massaging softly as he nuzzles her neck.

 

“Let’s break into the stash of chocolate, yeah?” Her frown immediately fades, replaced with a sly grin.

 

\-----

 

“Let’s have sex.” She almost chokes on air, gathering herself quickly and looking to him, wide eyed.

 

“We have sex all the time.” She points out, eyes narrowed and head turned to the side in confusion.

 

“No, I mean-I mean like, on the mission to create a human, kind of sex.” Her lips turn into a smile at his choice of words.

 

“You want to start trying?”

 

“Don't you?” He asks as though it’s so obvious.

 

“Can't you imagine it? A little human, parts of both of us. My handsomeness, your stubbornness.” Her eyes roll at his last sentence, lips turned upward into a smile at the thought. Of course she'd thought about kids with him. Maybe they’d have his blue eyes, his dark hair, his nose, or his lips.

 

She nods vigorously, practically lunging herself at him, arms wrapped around his neck and legs on either side of him. And they start right there, cramped on the couch, her underwear pushed to the side and his jeans just unbuckled and unzipped. She feels like she's forgetting something, the barrier that's usually there, but she feels giddy knowing she won't need it, that potentially after this she could be pregnant with her best friends baby.

 

\-----

 

She didn't know why she was expecting the first time to be the one time, upset when the stick shows it's one, disappointing line. She drops it into the bathroom trash can, leaning against the counter as she lets the sound of the shower running fill her ears. A hiss escapes his lips as the heat of the water hits his back, running across the indents of where her nails had scratched.

 

“What did you do to me, Betts?” There's humor in his voice, grinning as he shuts off the water, but the humor immediately dies when he glances over at her. Her lips are full and pouted, eyes glued to the cracked tile of the bathroom floor. Towel now wrapped around his waist, he holds her face in his hands.

 

“Some people get it on the first try.” Her voice was soft, cracking slightly.

 

“Hey-Hey you listen to me. It'll happen, everything is okay. All the more fun trying, yeah?” His thumb presses into her chin, her eyes meeting with his as she nods once, quickly pecking his lips, making her way to move out of his hold.

 

“Hey-” He stops her.

 

“C’mere.” His lips crush against hers, pressing forcefully. She presses back with just as much force, pushing her fingers into his hair and locking them there to stay. With ease, she's lifted on to the bathroom counter, her jeans pulled down her long, pale legs, left in one of his S t-shirts from just a short amount of years ago. With just a pull of his finger at the material, the towel drops to the floor, and he's inside of her within seconds.

 

She falls completely limp at the sensation, her head resting all of its weight against his shoulder, hair still being tugged by her fingers with each push and pull of his hips.

 

And he has to fuck her, so many times, to which he isn’t complaining, but the aching tells his body otherwise. She doesn’t feel better till he’s come in her at least five times that night, begging it out of him. And when she’s done desperately pleading for him, boxers now pulled around his waist, he follows out into the living room to see her sitting upside down on the couch, feet pressed against the wall. She didn’t realize the need, the want to be pregnant until he had brought it up, and now that he had, it was all she could think about, it was all she wanted. She wanted to start a family with her best friend.

 

“Elizabeth, _what the hell are you doing_?” His head is cocked to the side as she bounces her feet on and off the wall.

 

“Maybe this’ll work.” She looks to him, the blood starting to rush to her head from sitting this way.

 

“Did I fuck you _brainless_?” It comes out like word vomit, and her eyes widen in shock.

 

“Forsythe!” The call of his full name makes him cringe.

 

“Babe, I don’t think that’s how that works-nevermind.” His head shakes back and forth, amused at her.

 

\-----

 

“Did you get any sleep last night?” He’s shocked that his father can tell over the phone, maybe it was the grogginess in his voice, the way he spoke slowly. He grunts back into the receiver of the phone, earning a light hearted laugh from FP.

 

“Looks like she’s wearing you out.” He can practically hear the smile on his father’s face.

 

“Not complaining, _but_ -” His sentences dies out.

 

“What, son?”

 

“We’re trying.” His father pauses for a few seconds or so, trying to find the words.

 

“That’s great!” He settles with, happy at the thought of his son creating a life for himself, with his best friend to say the least.

 

“Hasn’t happened yet, I think she’s nervous.” His mind flashes back to her recent state of complete anxiety and nervousness. She was anxious to get pregnant, anxious that it hadn’t happened as quickly as she hoped it would.

 

“Just _do it_.” Jughead’s forehead wrinkles in disgust at the thought of his dad giving conception advice.

 

“Dad-” He groans, immediately cut off.

 

“No seriously, all the time, just _do it_. I swear son, how do you think me and your mother got you?”

 

“Gross, dad-”

 

“Are you complaining that I’m telling you to have nonstop sex with your bestfriend?” He pauses for a moment, smile on his lips.

 

“No, just-My god, let’s not talk about it.”

 

\-----

 

The next few days is a blur of naked skin and panted moans. He’s constantly inside of her, constantly fucking her and filling her with everything he’s got. His body is beyond exhausted, hers is too, but they’re nowhere near complaining.

 

Pushed into the mattress, bare skin touching skin, lips catching moans and bruising each other black and blue, they’re at it all day long. His lips start at her cheek, sliding down her throat. He wants and needs so badly to taste her, but knows she’ll kill him if he doesn’t wind up just getting to the point. On top of her, his weight makes her feel safe, secure. With a nudge of his knee between hers, her legs spread, incredibly soaked in desire for him, even traces of him left behind.

 

Just a small push forward, with her hands grabbing at his waist, he’s inside of her, so incredibly easily. Her eyes are struggling to stay open, but she doesn’t want to close them, she wants to remember every second, every look on his face as his hips rock back and forth. Her lips part in breathless pants, leg now hitched to his waist, fingers pressing firmly into her thigh.

 

It’s starts to become all too much, there is no rhyme or rhythm, his hips pushing forward recklessly, hers pushing up to meet with his.

 

“C’mon.” He encourages her, hand between her legs to which she moans in response, falling into oblivion as they both crumble apart in each other’s arms.

 

\-----

 

“Babe...Babe come here.” She starts out soft before her words turn into full fledged screaming, having him running toward the bathroom door, almost tripping and falling flat on his face.

 

“ _Two line_ s?” He’s panting, catching his breath from running across the apartment, entirely hopeful she called him in for the reason he think she did.

 

“ _Two fucking lines_!” The tears are already streaming, not just down her face but now his. Her legs wrap tightly around his waist as he pulls her into him quickly.

 

“We’re having a baby…” She pulls back slowly from the crook of his neck, lips crushing forcefully against his.

 

“We’re having a baby Elizabeth.”


	23. hiking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short, hopefully sweet.

Jughead Jones hates Veronica Lodge, _God_ , does he hate her. And not because of the reasons most people do, but because it’s ninety degrees out and she suggests that they going hiking. That they enjoy the beautiful scenery, that she has her skin drink in the sun to catch that glowing tan she so desperately “ _needs_.” Yeah, he hates her, cause it’s hot and he’s sweating, wearing that tank top he looks so good in that Betty likes, jeans rolled to his ankles, boots covered in dirt as he drags his feet along the path. But, then again, he loves her, he loves Veronica Lodge _so God damn much_ because he got Betty out here in the shortest jean shorts he’s ever seen. And her chest is straining against the tight shirt she’s wearing and _fuck_ , it just makes the temperature rise ten degrees hotter, and his skin is scorched, his blood is boiling.

 

“Ronnie, it’s fucking hot.” His t-shirt is tucked into the back of his jeans, to which he’d rid himself of just about four minutes in, and if Betty was going to be swaying her hips with every step she took like she was, his undershirt would be soon to go. The well known sound of Betty moaning fills his ears and he just about stops in his tracks, watching as she wipes the back of her hand across her forehead.

 

“ _Betts_ -” He grumbles, fists clenching at the sound. Her head slowly turns, eyes meeting his and glancing over the miserable look on his face. Her lips curve into a sly half smile, knocking her hip into his side.

 

“Enjoy the scenery.” She swats at his arm as he continues to pout, his head snapping back up toward the sky, eyes shut tight. Her fingers lace through his, hot skin pressing into his even hotter skin, using the little strength she has in the summer heat to pull him along the path.

 

“Cooper.” He groans, annoyed, not at her, but at the fact that all he can think about is her, and her tiny shorts, and her chest, and her once pale, now slightly glowing skin thanks to the summer sun. And _fuck_ , he hates how he’s such a _dude_ , staring at her like this, but the heat has started to cut off any rational thought from flowing to his brain. The only thing that resides there now is short shorts and glowing skin and flowing blonde hair and green eyes and just anything else entirely Betty Cooper. His eyes fall slowly to her chest, which is rising and falling torturously slow but now increasing the longer he looks at her.

 

“ _Jones!”_ Her voices raises, his teeth gritting together as she swats him again. She mumbles something about how they have to catch up to Archie and Ronnie, her thighs beginning to burn as she starts her way up the steep hill, him hot on her trail, desperately trying to latch himself onto her. And she decides that Jughead Jones is in fact a toddler.

 

“But Betts-” His thumbs hook into the belt loops of her shorts, tugging her backward. She’s ready to yell at him again, but then he’s pushing her hair to the side and his lips are sliding down the back of her neck and she just about fucking loses all train of thought.

 

“Are you trying to get into my pants, Jones?”

 

“More like _very short,_ shorts.” His lips are curved into a grin as she mumbles how much of smartass he is, her eyes closed at the feeling of his mouth pressed to the hot skin of her neck, eyes almost rolling back at the thought of his mouth pressed elsewhere.

 

“Besides, do you want me to get into your pants?” His fingers slip out of her belt loops, pressing into the soft, exposed skin as her shirt rises slightly, leaving her shuddering at the feeling.

 

“Shorts. And I dunno, depends on if you keep kissing my neck like that.” Turning in his arms, his knees feel weak, her chest pressing against his.

 

“I’m about to pretty vulgar here,-” His hands slip into the back pockets of her shorts, pressing her into him, just the little amount of skin exposed sticking to each other and driving them both just a little bit crazier.

 

“Mhm-” Her head starts to feel dizzy as her eyes glance over him, that white tank top he was wearing that she steals every so often, his jeans that even he couldn’t ditch on a hot day like this. And _fuck_ , she can practically see the muscles straining through his shirt. No, maybe he wasn’t as built as Archie, but why the hell would that matter, she never liked how buff Archie had been anyways. And Jughead was so much more than what he looked like. Jughead had been everything perfect, everything right for her.

 

“We’ve been dragged out here in ninety degree weather and I think I’m dying of heat stroke, now as not only your boyfriend but now a dying man, I think you should grant my last wish here-” His sentence dies out, distracted by the way she leans further into him.

 

“Which is…” Her finger slides slowly across his cheek, thumb pressing into his chin.

 

“ _Fuck me_.” Her hand drops, just as her mouth does, his lips quickly catching hers in a kiss, tongue hot against hers.

 

“Juggie, we’re in the middle of the woods…” Reality catches up to her quickly, lips parting his with a wet pop as she pulls back slightly.

 

“Exactly, I see a good tree over there, let’s go.” His fingers have to press under her chin to stop her mouth from falling further.

 

“Jones!” She couldn't believe he was serious. Fucking in the woods...with her best friends just a hundred feet or so away.

 

“Technically, I blame you.”

 

“Yeah? And why is that?” Her head cocks to the side, lip between her teeth.

 

“The shorts.” His thumb pushes under the material of her shirt, circling her belly button.

 

“The shorts is what did it for you?” Her head throws back in laughter.

 

“Well, more like the girl in the shorts. Besides, you have _great_ legs. Not my fault.”

 

“Ahh.” She nods, eyes rolling playfully.

 

“Guys!” Veronica’s voice breaks them away from the heat induced haze.

 

“You're so fucking slow, what are you-” The words die on her lips, eyes slowly drinking in the scene of them, wrapped in each other, panting and skin stuck together.

 

_“-oh!”_

 

“Think we're gonna take a detour Ronnie, right Betts?” She's at loss for words, looking back to her best friend as Jughead tugs her off in the other direction of the trail, disappearing into a clearing behind the trees. Ronnie goes running in the other direction to catch up to Archie, smile prominent on her lips.

 

“Fucking?” Archie's eyebrow is cocked upward, leaning against one of the trees.

 

“Yeah. You were right.”

 

“Always am.”

 

\-----

 

His skin is hot, his mind is clouded and he can't imagine wasting anymore time, her back pressed into the first tree he spots. The wood scratches into her back through the thin material of her shirt, but his lips are hot and wet against her jaw and so she doesn't mind. His thigh is pressed firmly between her slightly parted legs and she can hardly stop herself from rolling her hips forward. Her skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he doesn't mind, tongue sliding across her throat.

 

“I'm a mess, don't do that.” She feels gross, sweaty, as the sun beats down on them.

 

“Don't care.” His teeth sink gently into the pulse point of her neck, tongue soothing the skin afterward. As the seconds go by he drives her crazy and crazier. He doesn't care how she looks, he doesn't care about most of the things that the guys like Archie care about. His lips slide down to her shoulder, teeth now sinking into her skin there, and everything turns into a blur. He pops open the button of her jean shorts, fingers pushing past her underwear and into her with incredible ease.

 

“I can't stand while you do that.” His fingers curl upward, her knees buckling, legs weak. He groans in disagreement, at loss for words. He'd fucked her more than he could count on his fingers and toes, but that didn’t seem to matter. She was still as tight as the first time he touched her, the first time he fucked her.

 

“Jesus, I wanna fuck you _so bad_.” He groans again, head falling in between her neck and shoulder, her hips rolling toward his hand, fingers increasing in speed.

 

“Then do it.” She grows to be just as desperate as he is, although starting out apprehensive.

 

“I want you to come first.”

 

“Juggie, always taking care of me.” She grins, head tilted to the side in adoration.

 

“Always.” Fingers curling upward again and again, thumb circling her clit and she’s coming within another minute that passes, nearly falling. His thigh pressed between her legs again, pushing her harder against the trunk of the tree before she has the chance to fall.

 

“Take em off.” His thumb hooks into her shorts.

 

“Jug-” She’s rightfully uncomfortable at the idea of being half naked in the middle of the woods, and although it doesn’t make much of a difference, he remembers clearly how his shirt rests around the middle of her thighs whenever she takes it upon herself to wear them, and so reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he pulls it over her shoulders over her own tight shirt. Once knowing she is feeling slightly more at ease, his fingers tug her shorts down her long, pale legs in one swift movement, boot stepping on the material so she can pull her feet out of them.

 

“On, off?” His finger dips into the side of her underwear.

 

“Just push them to the side.” And he does, like he’s had to many times before when they’re being the desperate, horny teenagers they are, and taking the extra fifteen seconds to pull her panties down her legs is just a waste of time. Her fingers work quickly at his belt, unbuckling, then working at the zipper, tugging it down as fast as she can, reaching past all the material in the way. Nails digging into the delicate skin of her thigh, he pulls her left leg to rest around his waist.

 

“Hurry.” She bounces desperately on the one foot she’s standing on, eyes everywhere but his face, anxiety kicking in.

 

“What was that? Slow down?” His eyebrows raise humorously.

 

“ _Fuck you_.”

 

“That’s the idea. Calm down” His thumb caresses gently over her cheek, a single roll of his hips forward and he’s inside of her, her jaw falling slack. He starts slow, each push and pull dragged out like it’s meant to be torture until she’s crying for more, begging for faster and harder.

 

“Holy shit-” Her eyes shut tight, nails biting into the skin of his forearms, so hard he swears she’ll draw blood. Thumb still pressed into her cheek, he pressed just a little bit harder, encouraging her to open her eyes. And when she opens them she doesn’t regret it, because his eyes are narrowed, mouth open in short pants, the pleasure is almost unbearable. Him moaning is just about her favorite sound, knowing the way she makes him feel is just enough to have her coming. His hips start to rock just a little faster, hands pressing firmly into her waist to pull her as tight as he can against him.

 

“ _Juggie_ -” She chokes out his name, voice lowered to almost a whisper.

 

“I know.” His lips press softly to her cheek, the sweet gesture while he fucks her harder feeling almost out of place.

 

“Im-” She’s close, she doesn’t even need to say the words. Her body is like a well learned instrument to him, and he was playing it just right.

 

“C’mon, c’mon Betts.” His forehead presses forcefully against hers, their lips now crushing together as his fingers press between her legs. And she comes, just about as hard as she ever has, the feeling of him filling her, the thrill of doing this where they shouldn’t be, it all adds up. He comes just as hard, her small whimpers filling his ears as he thrust into her a few more times, no rhyme or rhythm. Pulling away has her wincing, her legs feeling numb as she pulls her shorts from the dirt covered ground, sliding them back up. His fingers lace with hers, pulling her toward the clearing.    

 

“Yes! Betty! _My god_!” Archie’s voice is piercing as it reaches their ears.

 

“Fuck yeah, Juggie! _Harder_!” Veronica chimes in, the both of them making their way through the trees, shaking their heads, more embarrassed by the fact that their friends are screaming, rather than the fact they’d just fucked in the woods. Stepping out of the clearing and back onto the path they hear the shushed giggles of their friends.

 

“Juggie! Juggie! Fuck me with your big-”

 

“Ronnie! Shut up!” Jughead’s voice screams louder over hers. Veronica stumbles over in laughter, slapping her hand gently against the side of his face.

 

“Aww, you getting upset Jughead?” His eyes narrow at her.

 

“We aren’t that bad.” A blush rises to Betty’s already sun burnt cheeks as she looks to her best friend.

 

“I beg to differ, sweetheart.”


	24. friends...and porn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things don't go as expected for friends who try to watch porn together...

It's around nine pm when she opens her apartment door, her best friend leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over his chest. It was a nightly occurrence for him to show up at whatever time he pleased, unannounced. One look at her from head to toe and he smiles, cause her hair is falling in soft waves around her face, her glasses are sitting on the bridge of her nose, and she's wearing a pair of the cutest matching pajamas he's ever had the pleasure of seeing her in.   
  
" _Sexy_." He grins, sliding past her and through the door, to which she grumbles with faux annoyance.   
  
"What're you doing?" She slams the door shut, locking it into place, unsurprised with the fact that he's already dived head first into the fridge. She makes the mental note to go food shopping, and soon if her best friend was going to keep raiding the fridge every night.  
  
"Sabrina has better things to do apparently." She scoffs at his answer, pulling a bag of chips from the cabinet. She knows they’d planned on going out tonight. He was probably going to take her somewhere nice, give her flowers and pull her chair out at the dinner table, the whole romantic Jones experience. The experience _she_ didn’t get because it was going to waste on someone who didn’t even want it.  
  
"Better things than her boyfriend?" Sabrina had always been pretty absent. And Betty hated her for it. Her best friend deserved much better. How could she not want to spend time with him, be with him, how did she pass up fucking him every night when she could. _Dumbass_.

  
"Lets not talk about her. What were you doing?" She'll gladly not talk about Sabrina. She spreads herself across the couch, laptop in hand.   
  
"Been trying to start something with myself for an hour. Ridiculous." His eyebrow raises at the blonde girl, placing himself on the couch, pulling her feet onto his lap. It was easy for her to be open with him, more than Archie, more than Veronica. She couldn’t explain the sense of safety and normalcy she felt with him.

  
"Dressed like that?" He eyes her matching unicorn pajamas.   
  
"Did you want me to answer the door naked?" Her eyes widen at him, looking over the screen of computer that partially blocks his face. She did take an exceptionally long time to answer the door he notes, and he would’ve just walked in like he usually does if the door hadn’t been locked. He knew what she must've been up to. She never locks that god damned door. The thought of it makes his skin feel hot.  
  
"Eh, I dunno." The smug look never leaves his face, his hands squeezing her feet gently.  
  
"Porn doesn't do it for me anymore." Her head throws back in annoyance, disregarding his comment, snapping back up at the sound of him scoffing.   
  
" _Porn_. My innocent Cooper girl, _watching porn_?" He teases. _Innocent_. She was anything but. His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth to making a tsking sound.  
  
"You don't watch porn?" Her eyebrows raise, head cocked in confusion, in genuine wonder, ready to pull up her browser. She's never heard of a guy uninterested in porn. Being Betty Cooper’s best friend had its many perks. Maybe it was because she had dinner on the table for him every night, maybe it was because she did thing like this with him.   
  
"We're so watching porn." Her fingers type quickly across the keyboard, clicking one of the first results that popped up.   
  
"Hey-hey, I didn't say that. I'm not a complete freak. I just...don't understand it." His eyes flickered over the screen, somewhat amused at the sounds the brunette had been making. Everything seemed so...unrealistic.   
  
"What's there to understand. It's not like there's a storyline." Her eyes follow his to the screen.   
  
"Maybe that's the problem. I need plot." He was a writer after all.  
  
"Jughead." Her eyes narrow at him.   
  
"No, really. I don't know. Maybe it's the men. I mean who treats women like that?" The man was spitting vile things at her. She played along, she seemed into it, however this wasn't real. And she was getting paid. He can't imagine any women actually enjoying it.   
  
"Lots of men." Betty scoffs at the obvious. Some men were exactly this way. Some. Some were like Jughead.   
  
"I know, and it's fucking gross. Not turning me on." His eyes shut momentarily, shaking his head back and forth twice, as if he was trying to shake the image from his mind.   
  
"I guess. Not everyone sees the appeal. And sorry, don't want to burst your bubble, women aren't like that in bed." Her eyes widen slightly. Could the body really bend that way? She pulls back slightly at the loud sound the guy elicits from the girl.  
  
"Like _what_?" His head turns slightly, the screen still clear in the corner of his eye.   
  
"That expressive. _Screaming_. I don't know-" He grins at her, the most wide, shit eating grin she's ever seen.  
  
"I've had a few loud ones. No one’s making you scream, Elizabeth?" He raises one eyebrow, she turns her head, but she can practically hear the smile on his lips.   
  
"Can't say I recall being that loud about it." Betty Cooper was by no means quiet in bed, but as loud as the girl thrashing on the screen, not a chance.  
  
"Seems like no one knows what they're doing." His brain quickly runs over the idea of pleasing his best friend. Well if no one else was gonna do it...  
  
"And _you_ do?" Oh she knows he does. Sabrina made no point in quieting herself, even if there was company. And last year when the core four, including the thing that latched herself to his side decided spending the winter in a cabin was the best idea, she got an earful of it.

  
"If my ears are ringing afterward, I should take that as I sign, no?" _What a smug bastard_. Maybe Sabrina wanted everyone to hear, she was possessive. Or maybe Jughead was just that good. Maybe a little of both.

  
"Whatever. We should watch something amateur, this is just..." The sentence dies on her lips and he finishes it for her. 

  
"Laughable."   
  
"You have a preference Jones?" She holds herself up on her elbows.

  
"Yes, actually. Blondes." She thinks of Sabrina instantly. The tall, skinny blonde. And her heart sinks just a little. Betty wasn’t self conscious, she liked how she looked, the way she carried a little extra weight in some places. But for some reason the thought of him with her stirs things inside of her. Her head almost drops back down to the couch, halting when he continues to talk. 

  
"Blondes with green eyes. Who wear matching pajamas and huge nerd glasses."   
  
_ Oh. _   
  
"Kidding Betts." He shakes his head before winking at her playfully.   
  
"Maybe."   
  
"Shut-You know what, fine." Pulling the computer onto her lap, her fingers type quickly, pounding on the keyboard and hitting search before shoving it in his direction. His eyes scan quickly across the screen, his head now thrown back in laughter.   
  
"Moody douche bags who wear the same reoccurring four shirts, dark hair, blue eyes. Look! There's results." Her eyes widen as he clicks the first option with no hesitation.    
  
"Aw, and the girls blonde. What a coincidence." He makes a point of teasing her, he always has. And he’s hoping tonight the more he teases, the more she’ll crack. He wants her, he _needs_ her.   
  
"What, did you and Sabrina get tipsy on half a glass of wine and make a sex tape?" Jughead was a lightweight no doubt.    
  
" _ What _ , you don't think she looks like you?" Betty’s heart stops. Why did he have to say things like that, make her feel the way she was feeling.   
  
" _My god_ -" She pulls her knees into her chest, biting the side of her thumb as she anxiously stares at the screen. She pushes her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose in a nervous habit.   
  
" _Juggie_! Turn it off!" The girl on the screen is practically thrashing herself among the bed and the heat is starting to rise to Betty’s cheeks.   
  
"Betts-" He chokes out in laughter. Her foot jolts outward in attempt to kick him. Quickly he grabs a hold of her foot, yanking her further in his direction. High pitched laughter fills his ears, his heart swelling at least ten times it’s size. Fingers tickling up her sides and the laughter only grows louder, her head thrown back, her shoulders shaking. She hated being tickled, and she’s just about had enough, fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist, legs sliding over his and pushing his hands upward to rest against the wall above his head. She hums in approval at the position she has him in. 

 

“Is this your way of telling me you want to ride me? Cause I'm only semi impressed.” Her eyes narrow at him, slowly letting go on the hold she has of his wrists. 

  
"Show me your moves. You can't be that good.” He scoffs at her, watching as she crosses her arms over her chest. Why shouldn’t they. Maybe the girlfriend, or the fact that they’re best friends and they could just about ruin everything. However, neither of them seem to care.

  
" _Excuse me_? I'm excellent, thank you very much Cooper." She rolls her eyes dramatically at him. He’d only been this cocky with her.

  
"Then show me your moves." His mouth opens slightly, but he is in no means about to protest. Because he’d be lying if he said he hadn't wanted her in the position since he’d known her. And nothing explains why he’s not upset his coincidentally blonde girlfriend keeps blowing him off more than the fact that he's in love with his best friend. 

  
"Well, _fine_. Maybe I will." She restrains herself from having her eyes widen, she was the one who asked for it, and he seemed more than happy to deliver. 

  
"Where do you start?" She asks simply, shivering as his hands slide from her hips to her thighs, squeezing them firmly.  He begins to lean forward, and she almost does too, disappointed when his lips land on the corner of her mouth instead of in the dead center. His lips begin to drag across her jawline.  
  
"Here-" They slide down the column of her throat, pressing just slightly harder into her pulse point. The movement is simple, yet her heart is beating like crazy, and she imagines this is what doing illicit drugs feels like.  
  
"Then here-" His lips slide just slightly farther up her neck, teeth sinking every so lightly into the delicate skin. He bites, and it stings, but it sends waves of heat between her thighs and she wants more. She wants her best friend to literally fuck her raw.  
  
"Then here-" His lips are finally on hers, mouth opened partially, tongue slipping out to delve into her mouth.  
  
"-when she's desperate. It's all about anticipation. Isn't it?" His fingertip slides along her jawline, pressing under her chin. _How the fuck does he do it_. Make her feel like she was feeling.  
  
" _Jug_ -" The feeling is indescribable. She want’s to sit her straddled in his lap and make out with him like a horny teenager for hours on end if she’d let him. By the looks of it, he will. His tongue slides across his lips and thankful, albeit surprised that she got the taste of him in her mouth. _Like honey and nicotine._ His hands press underneath her shoulder blades, pushing her in further toward him and it takes no longer than a mere few seconds for her to give in, to just completely give herself over to him. Her mouth presses against his, and his hot, wet tongue is sliding against his even hotter one. His tongue in her mouth makes it so she can feel her heart beating between her legs.

 

His thumb moves to caress gently over her left cheek as he does the most delicious things inside her mouth with his tongue, and its a soft and sweet gesture that makes her feel almost bad for wanting to go totally insane and fuck him senseless tonight. She’s heard the way he’s made girls feel, she so badly wants to feel that way at his hands.

 

“Betts-” He wants to tell her to slow down, but he’s at loss for words with the way her hips are sliding sinfully against his. The idea of showing you love someone usually is a soft and slow image of love making, but who's to say he can’t show her by just fucking her brains out. All of his morals fly out the cracked apartment window, his one hand pressing into her back for support, because she’ll be needing it, and the other sliding around to where the top of her pajamas end, and where the bottom of them begin, delicately fingering the exposed skin.

 

His hand ducks into her pajama bottoms altogether, sliding past the thin material of her damp underwear. _Damp...scratch that_ , he thinks as he reaches in further, fingers slipping into her with ease, _more like soaked_. Her eyes are on his as they widen at the feeling, just about losing it when he catches his bottom lip between his teeth.

 

“ _Fuck_ -” The profanity flows off of his lips, because she’s _that_ wet, _that_ tight around his fingers. He can’t begin to imagine how it’s going to feel when he’s buried to the hilt inside of her. Her lips are sealed together and a moan that could’ve deafened him is hidden within her mouth.

 

“Don't do that-” He’s desperate to hear her, that was the point of the after all. She thinks no one can make her scream for it? He begs to differ. She nods, mouth parting slightly as his fingers curl upward again experimentally. And then he hears it, the ear piercing moan he so badly wanted out of her.

 

“Good girl.” His lips press gently to the shell of her ear and she begins to feel the goosebumps that prick her skin.

 

“Are you gonna fuck me?” She’s a panting mess at this point, sweating and writhing and rolling her hips against his hand and _fuck_ , she’s just the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

 

“Do you want me to?” It was such an unnecessary question, but he wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t ask. And that was why she loved him. Vigorously, she’s nodding and she feels like a desperate idiot, but he’s looking at her with such lust and adoration and she just _can’t_ care. His heart begins to beat at an insane rate, because there's no being closer than actually being inside of her and he can’t fucking wait any longer.

 

“Take em off before I rip them.” His thumb hooks into her bottoms and she instantly remembers she’s wearing the matching pajama set her mother got her last Christmas, and again she feels like an idiot. But that feeling goes away as she stands and rids of herself of her pants, because he’s staring at her like that, and she’s surprised he isn’t drooling. Her underwear are pink and have a print of little ducklings all over them and _God_ , she couldn’t pick more embarrassing things to wear tonight if she fucking tried her hardest.

 

“Cute.” He grins, hands firm on her hips as he pulls her back to him. Her legs slide over his again, her face burying into his neck.

 

“Stop, I’m going to choke on my embarrassment.” He laughs. She was cute when she was embarrassed. He looks down, focusing on unbuckling, unzipping, moving everything out of the way as fast as he can, nearly ninety nine percent distracted by the growing wet spot on her underwear. His eyes keep flickering in between her thighs and she has to be the one to finish unzipping his jeans because he’s so entirely desperate and distracted that he stops within his tracks to slide her panties to the side, finger circling her clit. In all of his twenty-four years he’d never been so focused on wanting someone to come before he did, more than he did. He wanted her spent, limp and utterly ruined by the end of the night. The noises that she’s making just proves his point to himself even further.

 

He’s so consumed in her, focused on getting her there, to the point of oblivion. His finger just keeps circling, applying pressure every so often when he want to spur of the moment hear her cry out. His thumb stays put, his index finger sliding down further, pushing into her for the second time tonight. He can almost swear he might be enjoying it more than her, the way she tightens around just one finger has his heart racing a mile a minute. Finger curling upward, her mouth opens in a pleasure spiked shout, _okay so maybe they’re enjoying it just the same._

 

He adds another finger, and then another and she's throbbing so incredibly between her legs its insane. He wants to fuck her, more like needs to at this point, but he needs her to come first. He can’t explain why, but he just _needs_ it. His thumb is circling and his fingers are curling again and again and she’s just about spent, crushing her forehead against his, his free hand pressing firmly into the small of her back. And now at this point he’s just sitting there, arm still with his fingers curled as she rocks back and forth on his hand, it being by far the hottest thing he’s seen in his short life time. His thumb adding slightly more pressure has her coming with no means to hold back vocally, moaning, whimpering like a wounded animal. It sends her into a wild frenzy, she needs more, and she fucking needs it now. Sensitive, she pulls his hand away quickly, wasting no time pushing his jeans and boxers out of the way of what she needs most from him.

 

“Condom?”

 

“No, I’m-”

 

“Okay, great.” He pushes into her, not even a second of warning. She yelps at first, then falls limp against him, head buried between his neck and shoulder. Her hips pick up lazily before dropping back down and it leaves him dizzy. She does it again, again, again. He wants to scream at the feeling. Cause she’s so fucking wet, warm, tight and she keeps pressing her lips into the pulse of his neck and whispering his name like she doesn’t know any other word. _Has sex always been this good, always made you this dizzy?_ The both of them feel so at ease in each other's arms like this, with him inside of her like this. They’re obsessed with the feeling.

 

Her legs are beginning to burn. She starts rocking back and forth as if she doesn’t know how to stop, and she only goes increasingly faster, the hold he has on her hips growing increasingly tighter.

 

“ _Juggie_ -” His thumb slides over her highly sensitive clit, causing her to just about scream out. And he feels intensely possessive over her, that only he’s ever made her moan this loud, and that it’ll only ever be him. For the rest of his life he wants her, he doesn’t care about anything else.

 

“ _I’m gonna come, Juggie_.” Her thighs are beginning to stiffen, her fingernails are biting into his shoulders.

 

“I know, c’mon.” His thumb presses harder and her once wide eyes flutter closed. She can’t keep them open anymore, not with him touching her, fucking her like this. His hips are pushing upward each time she brings herself back down to him, and their hips are hitting together so hard they’re sure they’ll bruise, but the pleasure is blinding the pain. As if she wasn’t already excruciatingly tight enough, she tightens even more, burying her face into his neck, her cries almost deafening and he fucking loves it. He wants the sound on repeat. Just a few more seconds and he’s following right after her, coming in her, filling her to the fucking brim.

 

“Y’know, we should make our own, show em how its done.” His head nods toward the laptop resting on the couch next to them. And if she weren’t so at loss with her energy she would hit him like she normally would when he says something stupid like that, but she settles with telling him to fuck off instead.

 

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”


	25. desperation

It sounds like the perfect idea on paper. Dinner with Archie and Veronica, their best friends. A night away from anything and everything completely  _ Riverdale. _ Fred had been shot, FP was in jail, Clifford had killed his own son. Too much was happening all at once, and they were just kids. A night away from it all sounded perfect.

 

It should be perfect, they should spend a night completely innocent as children would. However the both of them are still on edge, wound up from the night of the Jubilee, no contact since. And that thing he does where he twirls that single curl of hair falling over his forehead just about has her done for. The way her tongue peeks out of the corner of her mouth to lick away that strawberry milkshake she’d been sipping all night drives him crazy. Looking at him, her heart beats a mile a minute, she can almost feel it between her legs. And looking at her, his mouth feels dry, he can remember exactly what her mouth tasted like when he kissed her last. This morning, it was quick, it was forceful, she stumbled back a little bit and he leaned in further. She tasted of the coffee she just made, and something else too, something else entirely her. Her brain can’t help but remember that night, play by play. And neither can his.

 

\-------

 

The knock on the door should have ruined the moment,  _ should have _ . But the door slams shut and she’s pressing him into the wall because she doesn’t know what else to do.  _ Is she confused? _ Yeah, but he’s wearing that jacket and he looks so good and so it can wait until later. And then they’re kissing again, hard. She’s sure her lips just might bruise. And all he can think about is how she’s wearing a skirt. She’s wearing a skirt and it’d be so easy right now to just dip his hand under there, to just push her panties to the side and fuck her with his hand. And it scares him, because he’s never felt this way before in his entire life, having this entire need to just please someone,  _ please her.  _ But he want’s to touch her, _ God _ does he want to. Right about now she doesn’t seem so opposed to the idea, rolling her hips toward his because she needs some sort of friction and  _ she needs it now _ . Looking to him, her eyes are dark, practically crying because she’s so desperate and she’s so in love and she’s feeling everything all at once and she just needs him right now so badly.

 

He leans down, his hands cupping the back of her knees, sliding up the backs of her thighs and just ever so slightly sliding under that skirt of hers, picking her up for the second time tonight like its just the easiest thing. Her back hits the couch with him just above her. He wanted the whole candle lit experience for her, but she keeps doing that thing with her tongue inside his mouth and he can’t imagine waiting even another second. The couch it’ll have to be. And sure, its small and its a little uncomfortable, but she doesn’t seem to mind, not at all, not when she’s with him. His right leg rests between hers and he can’t help but push it forward experimentally, surprised the by the noise she makes in reaction with the way it creates friction between her legs. Its too much and its not enough all at once. 

 

They’re sure their lips are swollen at this point, because they’ve been kissing for so long without stopping, their mouths a mix of honey and nicotine. They aren’t asking questions. They should be asking questions.  _ Like what does this mean for them.  _ And  _ What in the hell are they gonna do with everything that’s going on around them. _ But right now it doesn’t matter. They couldn’t give less of a shit. She’s lifting her arms, already half way on the way to losing her shirt as he tugs it up and off, the material of his sweater scratching the skin on her stomach. In another moment, she’s pulling his shirt off too, letting it fall between her fingers and onto the living room floor beside them. And her bra is next to go, but he doesn’t bother touching her just yet, not with his hands at least. Instead he pulls her flush against him, chests touching chests and skin touching skin, everything is bare and she’s never felt more warm or safe in her entire life. He kisses her deeply again, tongue moving along hers, and he can feel the way her nipples are perked up against his chest and all he can do is just moan. Moan because he’s on top of  _ Betty Cooper, _ cheerleader, girl next door, not perfect, not even really close to it, but perfect for him.

 

The reaction he gives has her practically grinning ear to ear, and then she’s lifting his left hand that used to be on her waist to her chest, her smile dropping instantly, mouth opening slightly, because  _ oh _ , she didn’t know it was going to feel  _ that  _ good. The air is growing thicker, hotter. And spur of the moment his hand is pushing her skirt up to her waist, deciding that he wanted to touch her. More like  _ needed _ to touch her. Her eyes lock with his as he slides his hand up further, because this is uncharted territory and the both of them feel like they should be a little more nervous.  _ Shouldn’t this be a little more awkward? _ Neither of them have done this before. Except it’s not awkward in its entirety and they aren’t nervous whatsoever. He’s really fighting the urge to just tear her underwear, but he somewhat has restraint, and so his fingertips are just trailing lazy circles on the inside of her thighs, crossing just barely over the growing wet spot he can feel, their eyes still locked in place. 

 

Her lip is between her teeth in anticipation and she can’t decide what’s more intimate, the fact that he’s touching her, or the fact that her eyes haven’t left his since he starting doing so. The only time their eyes part is when he looks down for a second, pushing her underwear to the side with three of his fingers, looking back to her immediately as she gasps when the air hits her. Pressing his fingers between her legs he realizes,  _ holy shit, she’s fucking soaked _ , and feeling her on his fingertips is the most erotic thing he’s ever done in his life. And she’s never been this turned on in her life. She’s touched herself before,  _ sure _ , she wasn’t  _ that _ innocent. But the feeling of someone else’s hands, his hands...well that was a whole other world.

 

She’s so wet it’s almost too easy to dip his finger into her. Just around one finger she is tight enough and he knows that tonight, if he hasn’t already, he will lose his mind. Her eyes keep shifting from his to down where his finger is pushing in and out at a steady rhythm and the sight of it brings her closer alone. Her fingers wrap tightly around his wrist, arm jolting back and forth with his as his hand begins to move faster, fingers curling upward at that spot she’d never been able to find. Her mouth opens in short, little pants and she’s about to tell him that she’s going to come within seconds, but he already knows, thumb rubbing over her clit in tight circles. The movement cuts off the words she wanted to say and all she can do is stare into his eyes while he stares right back into hers. And she comes, the most delicious sound of her voice filling his ears.

 

He needs more, he needs her to come again. He barely has control of himself as he slides off of the couch, kneeling in front of her. She is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, nipples perfectly perked, rosy. Her skirt bunched up to her waist, her hair falling down in soft golden waves. He swears he doesn’t deserve her, but he’s glad he has her. He’s never done this before, but he can’t help but imagine what she’d taste like. Surely like the rest of her, sweet. No warning and his tongue is coaxing between her thighs.  _ Sweet _ , he was right. She’s gasping, at loss of air as his tongue pressed flat against her. And now his head almost hurts because her fingers are grasping so hard at the hair on his head, tugging whenever his tongue flicks over her clit. But he doesn’t mind it, not one bit. She’s sensitive, and it doesn’t take that long for her to come again.

 

“ _ Juggie _ -” Just the sound of his name on her lips and he’s gone.  _ The idea of soft and slow? _ That’s out the window, cause he needs her, and he needs her  _ now _ . Something clicks inside of him, inside the both of them. Her underwear is next to go after he’s already tugged her skirt down her long, pale legs, and she’s working on getting his belt unbuckled, his zipper undone. Then his jeans and boxers are added to the pile of clothes on the living room floor and the both of them are completely bare, skin is touching skin every where. He lifts her left leg to rest among his hip and he’s so desperate he almost forgets to ask.

 

“Do I need-” 

 

“No.” He’d assumed she’d be on the pill anyway. Her mother was Alice Cooper and after that whole Polly incident, she couldn’t have another Cooper daughter ruin the name. He nods, and then he’s pushing forward, really fighting the urge to just push into her all at once at just the feeling of hardly being inside of her. He buries himself inside of her, and that’s it, its over for him. He is so fucking in love with her, everything about her, and this is one of his new favorite feelings he will never get over. His hips remain still, eyes drinking in every inch of her face and he can tell she’s uncomfortable. Because she  _ is _ , probably the most uncomfortable she’s ever been in her life, but it’ll pass, she know’s it will. And he’s being completely and utterly  _ Jughead, _ trying to distract her from it all by peppering kisses all over her face. Her lips press to his in a bruising kiss, because she’s so fucking in love with him and because its so obvious he’s making this all about her. 

 

The minutes pass and the feeling of discomfort is subsiding. Its still there, but just slightly, and so she’s encouraged him to start moving now. And when he does the discomfort slips away within the next couple of minutes. He knows it has. Because she makes _ that  _ strained sound, and she says his name  _ that _ way and he knows she’s for sure enjoying it by now.

 

_ Enjoying it was maybe a little bit of an understatement _ . She’s moaning now, a lot louder than when he had been touching her before and the sound has his hips moving faster. Left leg already perched on his hip, he pulls the other one up and her feet lock in place around his back. And  _ shit _ , he is so much deeper this way, with her legs raised like this. His hand has a hold on the left side of her face, thumb pressing into her cheek, sliding across every freckle, everything uniquely Betty. His thumb slides down just slightly, pressing into the corner of her mouth to which she turns her head, lips enclosing around his finger. Her tongue is hot against his skin, it almost feels like his skin is setting aflame. Her mouth tightens around his thumb as she sucks lightly, a groan vibrating through his chest.

 

“More, Juggie-” She pulls away from his thumb, and he’s shamelessly at her command, picking up the pace and pushing harder. He buries himself between her neck and shoulder, teeth sinking into the delicate skin, tongue soothing over it once the damage is done. She’s started pushing her hips upward now, meeting with his as they come back down. She swears her hips just might bruise, probably his too, but she doesn’t and can’t care. The delicious sound of him slipping in and out of her at a fast pace mixes in with the sound of him moaning, her crying out. He’d begun fucking her so hard into the couch it just might swallow her whole.

 

And then he comes in her, whispering that he loves her against her sweaty and flushed skin, and she knows that not ever in her life will she be able to give him up.  _ He has to be hers forever. Has to. _

 

\-------

 

The image of it all escapes her mind as quickly as it came.

 

“Earth to Betty? Jughead?” Veronica’s hands wave frantically in front of their faces.

 

“Wha-What?” Betty snaps from her daze, looking between her still dazed boyfriend and her best friend.

 

“Date night? Tomorrow?” She asks as if its obvious. She must've been talking about it for minutes now as they’d been zoned out.

 

“Oh, yeah sure. Sounds good.” She eyes him quickly, and by the look on his face she knows he’d just been thinking about the same thing. They hadn’t touched each other since that night and it was driving them half way to insane. The both of them had never felt more like teenagers in their lives, desperate for sex as much as they were now.

 

“Great!” She grabs her empty milkshake glass, heading toward the counter, probably to get Pop Tate to give her a free refill to which he’ll give in if she bats her eyelashes hard enough. Betty is quick to turn to her boyfriend, his hands moving to cup her face gently.

 

“Juggie-” She’s breathless just by looking at him. Looking at him brings up all the things she never wants to forget about that night. They needed to find time for things like this, to just be normal teenagers.

 

“I know.” He nods, thumb caressing her cheek.

 

“Tonight-” He tells her. They could easily stop by the trailer again.

 

“Yes, please-” She’s desperate, nodding quickly and pressing her lips to his. Veronica interrupts, sliding back into the booth.

 

“Betty, you’re still coming over tonight, right?”  _ Well, shit. You’ve got to be kidding. _

 

\-------

 

When the time comes, Veronica has Betty in some slim fitting dress she swears she’d never wear. And it’s uncomfortable, but it’s only for a few hours, and she’s hoping Jughead will have her out of it by the end of the night. The boys pick them up just minutes before the reservation, and Jughead is surprised he doesn’t trip over his own feet when his eyes land on her. He was frustrated enough. Veronica stole his girlfriend last night and now she’s gotten her into that dress. If he doesn’t explode by the end of the night it’ll be a miracle. He kisses her cheek, lips lingering for a little longer than they should, and with his hand on the small of her back, he leads her out the door.

 

Dinner is going as it usually goes in Pop’s, this time just a fancier setting. Archie is saying something stupid, making Betty laugh, and Jughead and Veronica can actually strike a good conversation, for they have more in common than they think. The sound of Betty’s laughter fills his ears, and he is completely entranced. Breaking conversation, he turns to her, arm snaking around her waist and pulling her toward him, causing her chair to scoot closer. The both of them are so desperate that the small amount of contact makes them dizzy. His lips press to the side of her forehead, and knowing that Archie and Ronnie are in their own little world, probably not paying attention, he works up the courage to kiss her quickly.  _ Well, that was the plan anyway, _ but her fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck and all of a sudden she’s putting her tongue in his mouth in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

 

“Wow, easy there, tigers.” Archie smiles at the two of them, light laugh on his lips as Veronica shakes her head playfully. Betty blushes at her desperation, leaning back in her seat. And things continue as they have. But then they’re waiting for dessert and his hand is sliding up her thigh and she’s just about had enough of waiting. She’s out of her seat before Veronica can ask what the hell she is doing, walking toward the exit of the restaurant with a worried Jughead right behind her. She’s out the door, rounding the corner into the alley, the tight space between the restaurant and the coffee shop Jughead took her on one of their first dates.

 

“Betts-” She leans against the cool brick, pulling Jughead by the collar of his sweater, his hands resting either side of her head against the wall. He’d planned on asking her what was wrong, but one look in her eyes and he knew. There’s no point in protesting, not with Betty, she was too headstrong. She’s really keen on the idea of just getting to the point, her arms wrapped around Jughead’s neck as he lifts her with ease. Pushing the skin tight dress up slightly, his fingers skim across where her underwear should rest, but don’t.

 

“You’re the devil.” He swears on it, grinning at the way she looks to him innocently.

 

Just a few seconds and she has his jeans unbuckled and unzipped, letting them rest low on his hips. He plans on wasting no time, already burying himself inside of her. The look on her face is pure happiness and ecstasy as she sighs with satisfaction. Only a few days, but she feels like she’s been waiting a lifetime. He fucks her hard against the brick wall till she’s a breathless and panting mess, eyes on hers the entire time.

 

“ _ Christ _ -” He bites his tongue, sure if he were to moan out loud he’d deafen her. But she doesn’t worry about such a thing, lips pressed to his ear so he can hear clearly and its only driving him closer to the edge.

 

“ _ Fuck _ .” He curses, face buried in her neck, knees feeling weak.

  
“ _ Jug-Juggie _ -” Begging for more, he gives her everything he’s got, fucking her relentlessly with no rhythm, just the fast and hard push and pull of his hips. Rocking in and out of her a few more times, the both of them are spent, limp against each other, returning to the dinner table with hair a mess and completely breathless.


	26. hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for sadi

The bell chimed as the door to Pop’s was pushed open, the hinges sighing. He made no move to acknowledge the disturbance, though it was nearly impossible, loud obnoxious laughter traveling through the once quiet room. His fingers slowly stopped moving across the keyboard, head tilting upward at the familiar sound. Archie, girlfriend attached to his hip and the girl next door close behind made way. And he never wanted to crawl into his skin and disappear more. Archie was his long time best friend from way back when, days spent in the tree house and Veronica was nearly tolerable. But Elizabeth Cooper was a whole other story. She was so infuriatingly perfect, every cardigan freshly pressed, every hair put into place. It was easy enough for him to say he hated her. Shockingly so, for it was hard not to like Betty Cooper. And the same went for her. He was obnoxious, stuck up, acted as though he was above everyone and everything. And she hated him more than she could stand. But her best friends were important to her and she wasn’t going to let his arrogance get in the way. They had gotten into the routine of avoiding each other at all costs, Archie or Veronica always sat in between them or never left them alone with each other. It was like they were a divorced couple who needed a mediator so they wouldn't rip each other’s throats out. Jughead knew when he was just ten years old and they first met thanks to Archie, that he wouldn’t like her. Dressed in pale colors head to toe and the way she was so sickeningly sweet made his skin crawl. She knew that young just the same, that she wouldn’t like him. He was quiet, reserved, but when he spoke he was sarcastic, arrogant. He contrasted too much with her own personality. It just wasn’t a friendship that was meant to be.

 

He teased her constantly, always about how perfect she is, how much of it can be true, how much of it is just a facade. His words ate at her, made her hate him even more. She teased him just the same, for being a loner, for being as sardonic as he was. And Betty dreads the idea of going to Pop’s with her friends if he was to be there, but Veronica was ever so persuasive and she found it hard to say no to her, no matter how much she hated him.

 

“I’ll be there, just don’t pay attention to him.” She’ll always say. To which Betty rolls her eyes and agrees. But it always turns out the same, she comes home feeling even more annoyed than the time she saw him last. And its another quiet night. Or it should be anyway. Because Veronica doesn’t feel well and Archie had dropped all evening plans for her, to take care of her. But the bell rings and the door squeaks and the booth across from him makes a soft deflating sound as she drops herself into the seat. And he wishes he’s stayed home tonight.

 

“What is it you want, Juliet?’ His tone is dry, and the use of that name is ever so bitterly ironic. Juliet. As if they’d ever be Romeo and Juliet. She scoffs at the idea. Her eyes narrow. She doesn’t answer him, instead waving Pop over with her right hand, his attention focusing back to the computer screen that illuminates his face ever so slightly. His ears perk up as she orders, and he hears his name in the mix.

 

“Another burger for Jughead, I guess. Just water for me.” His eyebrow arches as he looks back up to her, lips parted slightly.

 

“That a bribe, Betts?” His tone shows no emotion.

 

“That would mean I would want something from you. And we both know the answer to that.” Her legs cross under the table, her arms over her chest.

 

“Ahh, right.” He nods simply, once, eyes immediately returning to the screen once again.

 

“So you’re here for what exactly?” His head doesn’t lift this time, the words still spilling from his fingertips to the keyboard absentmindedly.

 

“Does there have to be an alterior motive? Maybe I like spending time with you.” The smirk on her lips matches his, his eyebrow raises again.

 

“You’re funny, Cooper.”

 

“So I’ve been told.” She shrugs.

 

“We aren’t friends, Betty. What are you doing?” She doesn’t answer, a small smile playing on her lips as Pop places her drink in front of her, her lips wrapping around the straw. The smile tugs at something inside of him. His immediate reaction is to deflect.

 

“Go home and write about Archie in your diary.”

 

“Why are you such a dick, Jones?” She scoffs, her hands slide off the glass, her fingers clenching into her palms.

 

“Do I look like the type to befriend the perfect girl next door, Cooper?”

 

“ _Fuck you_.” She seethes. Her clenched fist doesn’t go unnoticed as she slams it down in front of her. Neither does the streak of blood that follows when her fingers outstretch from her palm, hand sliding against the surface of the worn down table, quickly pulling it away.

 

“Betts-” He swallows thickly, eyeing the traces of blood. Her eyes are dark, beginning to water, his heart twinges. She’s up from her seat within seconds, folding her coat over her arm.

 

“Jesus, Betts I’m sorry-”

 

“No, fuck you. I _hate_ you.”

 

“Sorry Pop, I’ll take care of the bill tomorrow.” He nods at her, eyes softening, and then she’s out the door. He’s never hated the sound of that bell more. And he follows her right out.

 

“You know-” He starts softly, but her voice is way above his.

 

“ _God_! What?”

 

“It can’t be anymore than I hate you.” His voice starts to raise.

 

“Every nerve ending in my body is electrified by my hatred for you, there is no way-” And then his lips are on hers. His lips are on hers and she can hardly breathe. He’s kissing her so hard she's sure her lips will bruise. His tongue is hot, wet, inside of her mouth. Pulling back, her lips part, but he cuts her off before she can form the words.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Elizabeth.”

 

“Get in the truck.” He opens the door and she's quickly sliding in, halfway in his lap before he even gets the door closed once he's in.

  
"We shouldn't do this here." She rasps out, nails digging into his thighs, breath shallow, cramped against the the sticky leather seat.

  
He just shook his head, his hands slide from her thighs to her waist, pushing her dress up in the process. He licks his lips hungrily before pressing them to her neck, his teeth scraping lightly down her throat. Her hips push against his, grinding down onto the evident erection poking through his jeans.

  
"We shouldn’t do this at all." His grip tightens on her waist, trying to hold them in place. He sits up slightly, her breasts now pushed against his chest and he pulls her dress back down.

  
"Please. Just kiss me for a little bit." She fists his shirt in her hands, pushing her hips back down onto him. He eyes outside the window once more before nodding, looking to her lips with lust in his eyes. It's a short and sweet kiss at first, until he pulls her bottom lip between his teeth, making her whimper as he snaps it back into place. She tilts her head to the side instinctively wanting to deepen the kiss, his tongue instantly meeting hers.

  
His lips are warm and he's kissing her in that way that always leaves her feeling dizzy and drunk, making her only want more. He pulls back a moment, eyes on hers as her hips start to move again before kissing him, the wet sound of their lips meeting being the only sound is the cramped space besides the soft voices of the radio.

  
"You want me to touch you?" He whispers in her ear, his teeth pulling against her skin. She nods vigorously, letting out a whine as his fingers ghost over her underwear. She buries her face into his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as he pushed her panties to the side under her dress, his thumb flicking over her clit, fingers running through her. She whimpers involuntarily, nails digging further into him, face still hidden as she pushes her hips against his fingers.

  
"Jughead-" She calls out, and he's pushing a finger into her, making her whimper lowly again, pushing on Jughead's chest, wrapping fingers around his wrist. He groans, his head falling back onto the leather seat behind him.

 

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He licks his lips.

 

“Fuck me.” He becomes still instantly, a moan escaping him, looking into her eyes. His nose nudges with her, she can hardly breathe, his finger still knuckle deep inside of her.

  
"What do you want, Betts?" He questions, his eyes filled with desire.

  
"You. Inside of me." She whispers and he laughs lightly, forehead pressed to hers.

 

“You think about that?”

 

“Mhm.” She nods.

 

“What do you think about, Betts?”

 

“You, fucking me. Filling me...with so much of your come that-” He groans, cutting her off.

 

“-that it can barely fit.”

 

“ _Jesus Christ_ .” He chokes out.

  
He pushed her dress up, his thumb looped through the side of her panties and with a flick of his wrist, he yanks them down, leaving them to rest uncomfortably mid thigh. He looks to her, she nods, and then he tears them right off of her.

  
"Spread your legs, Betts." He demands, pushing her thighs apart roughly. Belt unbuckled and jeans pushes down, he sinks into her with a sigh. She cries out and he’s moving faster, harder and deeper all at once. She rocks her hips back and forth against the pace of his, and its all too much, she’s not sure how she can take it. He doesn't say much of anything, just lets out a groan every once and awhile as he hits the right spot, making her tighten around him. Sweat breaks out along their bodies, working towards release.

  
"Juggie, I'm gonna-" She cries out, but he pulls out of her immediately, leaving her with an empty feeling.

  
"No, you don't come unless I tell you to." He moves one of his hands to her hair, tugging back roughly, chin up and making her look into his eyes as he pushes into her again, this time moving agonizingly slow. She whimpers, almost in pain from the pleasure he keeps dragging out.

  
"What's wrong? You can't take it anymore? Because I could stop at anytime." He growls in her ear, condescendingly which only turns her on more than it should.

  
"No keep going." She begs, his hold on her hair stays firm. With each passing minute he picks up the pace, making her just as vulnerable as before. Hand still wrapped in her hair, tugging harder each time She tries to look down where he's pounding in and out of her, She has no choice but to look into his eyes and its killing her. She moans, her hot breath against his face. He places a light kiss over her collarbones before sucking gently, breaking the skin and letting a bruise form. She lets out a loud moan before doing the same just below his ear, her tongue soothing the skin afterwards.

 

“Say please. Tell me what you want.”

 

“Please. Please Juggie I want you to come in me.”

  
"Please, let-let me come Juggie...I, I can't..." She stuttered, the words come out harsh as if he'd been fucking them right out of her, and she's trying to lift her hips up under his hold. He finally let her hips go, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close as they came together.

  
He slowly removes his grip on her hair and immediately kisses her, swallowing her moans. She lifts her hips against his, coming undone, pulling away from his lips to whimper in his ear as he releases into her. Pulling out of her she's practically spilling everything he's given her.

  
" _Holy shit_ -" His eyes are between her legs, swallowing the mess they created. His mouth waters. She gathers the mess between her legs on her thumb, pressing into her lips and sucking it into her mouth. He almost passes out.

 

“More. Please. _More._ ” Her eyes darken as she pulls her thumb from her mouth, rocking her hips forward again and pleading like a child. How ironic, pleading like a child, but pleading for something completely unchild like.

 

“Give me a few minutes.” The back of his head hits the chair. And the next few minutes are silence. Not uncomfortable, just silent. With her in his lap, his come is a mess between her thighs, the both of their chests heaving, her face buried between his neck and shoulder, his head tilted to look up at the ceiling of the truck. She gives him no longer than necessary, pressing him between her legs again.

 

"Jughead, fuck, Juggie, oh God." His name falls effortlessly from her lips, over and over. Her movements are relentless, hips aching. He tugs her hair again. But all she wants is to look down.

  
"Juggie please." She whines as he tugs on her hair harder.

  
"What? Tell me what you want, Betts, or you aren’t getting it." He demands and she bites on her bottom lip, hard enough to break the skin, already closer from his words alone.

  
"Please Jug, I wanna watch you fuck me hard and fast. I wanna watch you fuck me, Juggie, please." She whimpers and his hand pushes her head down, forcing her to look where they connect. Her eyes shut tight just at a glance, for a moment, knowing if she kept them open there's no way she’d be able to hold on.

  
"Look." He tells her, and the second she does, she can't help but let go, legs shaking and back arching as she calls out his name and he releases into her again seconds later.

\-----

 

And that was all it took. One time. That feeling of him inside of her just one time. She was gone, she was utterly obsessed. He was too. He needed her, all the time whenever he could have her. The things he hated about her he began to love.  
It was their perfect little secret.

 

She lay perfectly still on her bed, swallowed in pink pillows and white sheets, knowing she'd be in trouble if she were to move. He progressively kissed lower, sure not to break his eyes away from hers. Lower and lower until he was kneeling in front of her on the floor, hands wrapped desperately around her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the bed in a quick movement.

  
The heat between her legs only grew, his hands needily pushing her dress up to her hips again, eyes parting from hers for just a moment, glued to in between her thighs. He bit his lip at the sight, the slick wetness between her legs just for him.

  
"We don't have time for this now...You've got to go in five minutes-" She quickly began, not wanting to start something they might not get to finish until the meeting was over and everyone was tucked into bed.

  
"Five minutes. That's all I need Betts." He licked his lips, thumb looped through the side of her panties, giving a hard tug, pulling the material down her legs. They were practically soaked in her desire as he rid them from her, pushing the material into the back pocket of his jeans,

  
"What's got you so worked up today, huh?" He tormented her, pulling her even closer to the edge of the bed, his lips whispering against the inside of her thigh. His question made her squirm, too desperate to have an answer, wanting him to get to the point already, their time slowly ticking away.

  
"I need you Juggie." She finally answered, sitting up from her position, easily able to give his hair a hard tug. The moment his head disappeared between her thighs, tongue slowly coaxing at her heat, she let herself fall back onto the bed, not having the strength to hold her head up anymore.

  
But she needed to see him, to see what he did to her. She rested on her elbows again, eyes locked with his as his mouth kept on moving, picking up the pace before slowing down again. Her head involuntarily fell back down to the bed, moans erupting from the back of her throat every time his lips reached over her clit.

  
" _God_ , Jug." She cried out, his tongue pushing into her opening, curling up into her, her moans growing louder, hips rising and falling to the rhythm of his tongue.

  
"See, just five minutes."

 

“ _God_ , I hate you.”

 

And she hates him

 

She hates him so goddamn much

 

She hates him so goddamn much for making her love him.

 

  
“I hate you too.”


	27. don't touch

Its the look on his face, the noises that he makes. The way she cries his name. The way her hips lift, her chest rises then falls. His breath shallows, his mind goes blank. Their skin feels as though its on fire. When she comes she only knows his name and he only knows hers. It can’t be just one. Its all of these things that make it so addictive, that make each other incredibly addictive. Its usually more than once, its everyday, its at school, at the diner, her bed, his. Its anytime and its anywhere.   


  
It's soft, it's slow. It's hard, it's fast.    


  
He tugs her head back, fingers threaded through her golden hair. He was infatuated with it, the feeling of pulling the strands between his fingers until her head snapped back, forced to look at nothing but where he wanted her to, the ceiling, his eyes, where he's pushing in and out of her.    


  
It's in the morning, it's at night. It's every waking moment that he wants her, that she wants him.    


  
It's three am and he's rocking in and out of her, buried in her to the hilt. She's sighing, crying out loudly, panting all over his hot and sweaty skin. Her hair tucked between his fingers, head tugged back, eyes on the ceiling and lips parted slightly. She's trying to keep quiet for the sake of her friends just in the bedroom across the hall, but he's fucking her so hard but slowly that she can't. His hips draw out each push forward, each pull back. The hinges of the bed sigh, the wood of headboard hits the wall. His hand moves to hold over her mouth, but it's no use. She's crying out so goddamn loud. His name is the only word she knows besides a curse out to God in the mix.    


  
They weren't supposed to be doing this now. Veronica was nice enough to invite them over for a horror movie night. It had gone well, as most of their casual hangouts do. And it was too late to drive home. She offered they stay in the guest bed room across the hall. Archie would stay in her room. She nodded them off to bed, they were tucked under the covers, safe and sound, partially nodding off until his hand slips between her legs. He got her off with his fingers, she was quiet enough about that. But she wanted more. She always wanted more.    


  
She pulls him on top of her, and she can't wait longer than necessary, his boxers pushed down to his knees and her underwear pushed to the side. And she's already so fucking wet. It's so easy to slip into her. Almost too easy that he slides out and she has to wrap her legs around his waist to keep him in place. They shouldn't be doing this now. But he feels so fucking good, buried inside of her like this, fucking her when he shouldn't be. And she hears the door across the hall creak open, and his hand is still clasped over her mouth, hushing her, hushing her to just be quiet, threatening to stop if she doesn't, but it only makes her whine more. She doesn't want him to stop, please, he can't stop now. She's so close and she needs him she needs him she needs him.    


  
His fingers tug harder, her head snaps back, her eyes are locked with his now. He starts to thrust harder, faster, the hinges of the bed are squeaking louder now. One look, one look into her eyes and he's that much closer.    


  
" _ Fuck, fuck, fuck _ ." His face buries between her neck and shoulder, words hushed against her sweaty skin. His lips part, sucking her skin into his mouth and it almost hurts, the skin breaks, a bruise forms.    


  
"I'm gonna come, Juggie." One hand of his slides under her t-shirt, over her breast, holding tightly under his fingertips, his other hand still held behind her head, hair threaded around each finger. He nods, lips sliding over her jaw before pressing his mouth to hers. His tongue is hot against hers, wet, the taste of nicotine mixed with honey. He swallows every moan caught in her throat.    


  
And then he comes in her, just like she always asks him to, begs him to. And she's left shaking, frozen, muscles clenched and still. She can hardly breathe. His hips pull back and she whimpers, he's created a mess between her thighs, spilling out of her and onto the sheets.    


  
" _ Fuck _ ." He sighs, forehead pressed to hers. The both of them are blissfully sated, stuck in a world of their own. Until Veronica's fist is slamming against the bedroom door.   


  
"Meeting. Living room. _ Now _ ." Her tone is annoyed and they suddenly feel as though they've been caught by Alice, not their teenage best friend. The sound of her feet padding down the hallway becomes distant. He rolls off of her, lifting his hips off the bed slightly to pull his boxers back up his legs as she readjusts her underwear. He moves back just barely, lips pressed to her sweaty forehead. Rolling out of the bed she can hardly stand, uneasy on her feet.    


  
The moonlight is casting through the window, and she shuffles lazily in her socks to the door, her sleepy boyfriend behind her, rubbing his eyes. Veronica is waiting on the couch, Archie half asleep on the living room chair, most likely unaware as to why his girlfriend dragged him downstairs at three am, for he slept like the dead.    


  
"This has got to stop." Her voice is stern, it's obvious she's unamused, her hands fused to her hips standing in a stance as though she's disappointed.    


  
"Calm down, mom." Jughead's sentence drags out beyond slow, exhaustion in his voice.    


  
"This is ridiculous. It was one night. You couldn't hold off one night?" Her voice raises and Archie huffs sleepily, stirring in the chair next to her.    


  
"It's sex. It's... _ healthy _ ." His hand is holding his head up. The sentence leaves her scoffing.    


  
"Ugh, that is so  _ you _ .  _ Everyday _ ?"   


  
"Look, two hundred dollars to the both of you if you can cut it out for the rest of the week."   


  
"Veronica, that's three more days." He's suddenly not tired anymore, eyes blown wide, his girlfriend half asleep on the couch next to him, eyes hooded. He nudges her slightly and she grumbles.   


  
"What-" Betty's eyes snap open.    


  
"Two hundred to the both of you if for the rest of the week you don't have sex."   


  
"What do you  _ classify _ as sex?"    


  
"My god, Jughead." Her eyes roll beyond than she thought possible.    


  
"Oral, hands, anything like that. You know what? Don't touch at all. None of it."   


  
"And if we can't."   


  
"Then I'll be expecting two hundred."   


  
"I can't get my girlfriend off because  _ you want money _ ?" His voice raises, startling his sleeping best friend.    


  
"Go back to bed." She whines.   


  
The rest of the night should be easy enough. They'd just gotten their fill. Except now they're told they can't do it, it makes them want it even more.    


  
They don't give in. Jughead is not handing Veronica over more money that she doesn't need. Falling asleep is hard enough when she's not in his arms, but they manage on opposite sides of the bed. At least they’re close. This is going to fucking suck.   
  
\-----   
  
He loves to touch her, to make her scream, cry, to come all over his hand. He aches for it most times. But it's not just that, not even the sexual act of touching her, but the comforting way too. When she's sad or happy or laughing. He's always touching her. Caressing her thigh, stroking her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear. Holding her through every nightmare. Every time she lost herself. Fingers are always interlocked, arms are always around each other. He's gotten so comfortable with touching her, he didn't realize how much he did it until he stopped, until he wasn't allowed anymore. The instinct to touch her had never been more strong.    


  
'Im horny.' It's the middle of the night when she texts him. She's restless, bored, half naked in bed when her mind wanders elsewhere. His breath is hitched in his throat as his eyes run across the screen.    


  
'And?' He's quick to respond to her surprise. With not the answer she was hoping for.    


  
'Nothing. I can take care of it myself.'   


  
Well, fuck. His eyes shut tight. Mind filled with the images of her, hand between her thighs, fingers pushing inside of herself, in, out. God. He's seen her do it before too. He's asked her to do it for him. She does it every time he asks without fail, knowing the way it makes him feel, the way his face flushes and his eyes darken. She wishes she could see the look on his face as she touches herself to the thought of him now. The feeling is good, rightfully so, but it's nowhere near what she's longing for, him, buried to the hilt inside of her.    


  
'All taken care of. Goodnight, love you.' He swallows thickly as his eyes run over the words on the screen. And he can hardly fall asleep that night.    
  
\-----   
  
It's hard enough even talking to her, because most conversations lead to where they shouldn't. She laughs, he makes a joke. It all goes downhill. She rubs her nose in a nervous like habit, which he thinks is adorable, and he makes a point of telling her so.   


  
"So, I'm just adorable, huh?" He can practically hear the smile over the phone.    


  
"Mhm. More than adorable."   


  
"What else?" She pushes further, sat on her bed, nothing but underwear on which she has yet to tell him, but she leaves it to his imagination.    


  
"Beautiful," He continues, clutching the phone tightly in hand.   


  
"Sexy-"   


  
" _ Sexy? _ " Her eyebrow raises.   


  
"How so?"   


  
" _ Nope _ , I'm not doing this." He clears his throat, though his words still come out rasped.   


  
"No! Tell me."    


  
"When you come." Her breath catches in her throat. She almost chokes. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. Her eyes close.   


  
"Your face. You do this little thing with your nose, it scrunches up." He exhales slowly before taking a deep breath.   


  
"And your lips, they part."   


  
"And you breathe out my name. And it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard." Her breathing pauses, her lips forming the next sentence before her brain can catch up to what she's saying.   


  
"You have to fuck me."    


  
"Betty I'm not-"    


  
"She won't know."   


  
"She will smell it out of you, she is like a hound, Elizabeth."   


  
"Please, you just-" She almost whines, desperate, her fingers clutching the sheets next to her.    


  
"-you just have to."   


  
"Why, tell me why, Betty." His voice is gruff, his hold on the phone tightening even more.    


  
"I'm so wet,  _ fuck _ ." She chokes out, almost in a sob.   


  
"Juggie,  _ I'm so wet _ , I touched myself so many times last night, please."   


  
"Touch yourself. Tell me what you thought about." She's not one to disobey him, her fingers pushing past her underwear in an instant, he can hear the band of it snap as she's pushing them out of the way. He swallows thickly.    


  
"You filled me with so much of your come, Juggie." She whimpers.   


  
"There was so much."   


  
" _ Fucking, Christ. Betty _ ." He groans.   


  
"How many times, how many times did you touch yourself, Betty?"   


  
"F-four." Her voice clips, he can tell she's getting close. He can hear the sounds of her arousal as she keeps pushing her fingers in and out, faster and then faster.    


  
"Jug-"    


  
"Go ahead." He encourages her, and she whines, crying out his name as she lets go.  _ Shit. And it's only been a day.  _ __   
  
\-----   
  
If it's not everything else, it's the way she walks in so innocently the next day as though she hadn't said what she said on the phone to him. As though she hadn't been thinking about him coming in her so much that she was filled to the brim. As if she hadn't touched herself not four times, but now five to the thought of it.    


  
She comes in, coffee in one hand and smile plastered on her face as she takes a seat on the student lounge couch, crossing her legs carefully so her skirt doesn't rise too much, but just enough for him to see the fading bruise he'd left that night they'd gotten caught.    


  
Veronica is laughing about something stupid Archie said, and Betty has just joined in as she's about to take a bite of her muffin. But Jughead is all too quick to stop her.   


  
"Babe?"   


  
"Mhm?" She hums, lips pressed to the rim of her coffee cup.    


  
"Can I talk to you for a second?"   


  
And then they're in the janitors closet. Hands are everywhere, clothes are pushed just perfectly out of the way. And he's inside of her, buried so deep. One leg is hitched around his waist, both hands pressed to his chest, his fingers threaded through her hair like always, her head tugged to look upward at the ceiling.    


  
"I'm-I'm gonna come." Her lip quivers, fisting his t-shirt between her fingers, but he shakes his head, tugging her hair back harder.   


  
"No, don't come yet." He demands, she whines in return.    


  
"Not yet, Betts." She finally nods, to the best of her ability with his hold still tight on her. But then his hold falters, and her head drops forward, forehead pressed to his as they both look down, down to where he's buried inside of her, and it's just enough to have them closer.    


  
"She's gonna kill us." He grunts, burying his face into her neck, head resting on her shoulder as he pounds a few more thrusts into her, her legs beginning to give out.    


  
"She won't know."   
  
\-----   
  
She doesn't find out, though Jughead suspected she would. He's glad. He got his fix, he's still two hundred dollars rich, what Veronica doesn't know won't hurt her.    


  
Veronica plans a sleepover that night for her and Betty. Partially because Betty is her best friend, partially because she doesn't trust that she won't sneak off to see her boyfriend. And when a prize was involved, things like these were serious to her. Though, Betty wouldn’t let that stop her, even if her best friend didn’t sleep like that dead as her boyfriend did.

 

Her raven haired best friend is sound asleep when she crawls out of bed in the middle of the night. Her boyfriend is waiting where she expected him to, sitting in one of the dining room chairs, head propped up on his hand as he blinks sleepily. He was tired, sure, so was she, but he’d never say no when she asked. Especially for things like this. She pads quickly into the dining room, climbing her way on top of him.

 

“You’re gonna be quiet, right?” His voice is rasped, as it usually is when its as late or early as it is. She nods slowly, pulling down the zipper of his jeans. His movements are slow, hooking his thumb into her underwear and pushing it to the side, pressing to her clit before she sinks onto him just as slowly. His mouth waters as he watches her take him between her legs, his eyes having to shut tightly once she rolls her hips forward, once, then twice, then again and again.

 

Her arms wrap around his neck, face nuzzled into his shoulder as her hips lift then drop, lift then drop again. But then his hips push upward to meet hers, and her head throws back, her lips parted in a moan.

 

“Betts-” His teeth grit together.

 

“Huh-”

 

“Shut up.”

 

All she can do is nod, afraid if she were to open her mouth all that would come out is a sharp pitched cry.

  
\-----   
  
Betty knew that when she woke up crying at three am it was because of that painfully indescribable void inside of her. Her chest ached, her ears were ringing, her head was pounding, it was so much harder to breathe  _ without him _ . Her hand clutched over her heart, almost trying to grasp for air as the room closed around her. Her fingers held tightly around his sweater, the sweater he wore tonight. She was panicking. It happened sometimes, it was normal to her. Without his warm hands heating up her icy skin, his fingers brushing away every tear, his embrace cradling her back to sanity, all she could do was keep crying, crying until Veronica woke up from the sound of broken sobs.    


  
"Betty?" Veronica called out in a panicked voice, almost tripping over the blankets entangled around her feet in a quick attempt to rush to her side of the bed.   


  
"It's nothing, I'm just tired." Betty croaked, her eyes almost stuck together from all of the tears.    


  
"Bullshit, what's wrong?" Ronnie sat closely to Betty, her small frame wrapping around Betty, arms squeezing her tight in attempt to comfort her.   


  
"I'm tired, Ronnie." She wiped at her tears harshly, turning in Veronica's arms to look at her, her beautiful albeit stubborn best friend   


  
"You're having a full fledged panic attack, Betty. Tell me what to do."   


  
"Call him. Please."   


  
He's over within the next few minutes. A call at three am and he knows. All bets are off, he holds her, her breathing is still heavy but she calms eventually. Veronica vows to never make a stupid bet like this again, and she leaves them be. Obsessed or not, they were in love, and they were good for each other. She thought she’d gotten her fix. _ But it wasn’t the physical act of sleeping with her boyfriend she needed, it was the feeling of falling asleep in his arms, where things were safe, warm. _ In his arms, she eventually falls into a well deserved sleep.   



End file.
